An old story
by ylemon
Summary: Tommy and Barbara thought they would have a nice week-end on Holy Island but a murder shatters their plans. As the story unfolds in Northumbria and London lies, family secrets and dark memories will be revealed. Comes after "Her fondest dream", is rated M for language, violence and adult content and is a cross-over with Ann Cleeves' wonderful series Vera.
1. Prologue

Author's note: I've had this story running in my head for a very long time but I keep procrastinating and I think I'll never finish it without a bit of pressure. So I'm starting to post it and I count on you, if you like it, to keep me writing.

WARNING! I usually don't write explicit sex scenes but I thought I'd try my hand at it in this story because I think, if used well, they can bring something to the storytelling. Be warned. It starts now.

* * *

In the northeast of England, just before the border with Scotland, sits the county of Northumberland. A mostly rural county, the high moor lands that predominate inland give way to low and flat landscapes as one reaches the North Sea coast on the East. There, south of Berwick-upon-Tweed, at around a mile from the shore, is Holy Island, a small patch of land known to be home to Lindisfarne Abbey and Lindisfarne Castle. The island is small, measuring approximately 3 miles from east to west and 1.5 miles from north to south. The causeway that links it to the mainland is submerged at high tides, leaving the 200 inhabitants of Lindisfarne to enjoy the quietness of the place. Sometimes some tourists decide to stay on the island while it's cut from the mainland to have a taste of the insularity, and to accommodate the wealthiest ones an old mansion has been converted to a charm hotel. On the second floor of this hotel, its windows giving views on the castle, is one of the best suites. As this story begins, on a rainy February night, the open curtains let the moon light enter the bedroom and fall on the naked bodies of a man and a woman. They're making love, the sheets tossed back at the foot of the bed. She's on her back, arched under the caress of her lover. He kisses her lips, then her neck just below her ear, then lingers in the space between her breasts. Finally he licks her right breast from its base up until his tongue plays with the hardened nipple. The woman breathes heavily and moans with pleasure as his mouth leaves her breast and starts kissing a line down her stomach, all over her flat belly, and around her navel. She opens her legs giving him the silent signal he'd been waiting for. He kisses her clean-shaven pubes and tickles her clit with the tip of his tongue. She lets out a little cry and buries her hands in his hair. He slides his tongue between her folds and tastes her wetness. Her sex is swollen and he explores every inches of it before introducing his tongue into her pulsating centre. He feels her fingers dig into his hair like claws, forcing his head down, forcing him further inside her but his own desire is almost unbearable and he wants a more intimate connection with her. He withdraws his tongue, earning him a disapproving grunt from his lover. He takes the glass of water on the bedside table and rinses his mouth before kissing her.

'I love you.'

'Hush…,' she puts a finger on his lips to silence him. 'Now's not the time for words; it's time for action.'

He moves on top of her and slowly penetrates her.

He takes his time, enjoying every second with this woman he loves so much. She's his, heart, soul and body and he wants to shout it to the world.

'I'm tired of hiding,' he tells her.

'No one should know, and you know why.'

'It's so hard.'

He thrusts himself farther until he's completely inside her and she closes her eyes, submerged by the sensation.

'I love you.'

'You're repeating yourself.'

'Say you love me.'

She kisses him, her hands run down his back and grabs his buttocks. He moves back and forth in long slow strokes, almost withdrawing completely before entering her again with all his length.

'Say you love me.'

'Hush.'

'I love you.'

'Are these the only words you know?'

'Marry me.'

She laughs.

'Don't be a fool.'

'I'm serious; marry me.'

He thrusts himself stronger and quicker and he feels her muscles tighten around him. She starts to moan and this arouses him even more. He closes his eyes; he focuses his attention only on the feeling of his body inside hers and on the sound of her pleasure. He's panting now. As the intensity of his movements increases, she's moaning louder. Her hands search his body frantically. She wriggles under him, thrusting her body to his, opening her legs wider to invite him deeper inside her. Her nails bite into his skin. She lets out a cry and falls back on the bed. The contractions of her body around him push him over the edge and he joins her in the sweet death of lovers.

'Marry me,' he repeats in her ear as she lies in his arms in the blissful calm that follows ecstasy.

'Stop saying that, you know it's impossible.'

She pushes him aside and leaves the bed but as soon as she's on her feet her head spins and she has to sit on the bed not to fall. He comes behind her, suddenly worried.

'What's wrong?' he asks, stroking her back.

'Nothing, just feeling a bit dizzy.'

'I'm so sorry, it's my fault,' he replies seriously, 'I should have been gentler.'

She laughs and struggles out of his hands.

'You rate yourself too highly, my dear.'

She gets up but he grabs her by the arm.

'What again?'

With his free hand he reaches for the bedside lamp and turns it on. Under the soft subdued light, her skin looks like silk and his desire awakens again. He knows he looks submissive, kneeling naked on this bed, with his erect sex as a tribute to her beauty but he doesn't care; he's all hers. She knows he can be strong and resilient and she knows she has the power to destroy him with just one word.

'I love you and I want to spend my life with you, my whole life not just some nights. I want you to be my wife.'

She tries to free herself but his grip is firm on her wrist.

'It doesn't have to be that way; we could be so happy together living our love in the face of the world.'

'You're delusional if you think that's what I want.'

Her voice is hard and cold, and it stabs him in the heart. He's shaken and lets free of her hand but she goes on mercilessly.

'How can you possibly think that I want to spend my life with you? You've nothing to offer me except good sex.'

'So that's all it is for you, sex?'

He's devastated; his dreams, his world are shattered.

'What do you think it was?'

'Love!' he yells. 'Love,' he repeats on a softer tone. 'I love you and I thought you loved me too. I thought we had something special together, something that we shared, something that made us happy and that would grow and last a lifetime.'

He hunches down on the bed, head bent. He looks so miserable she feels the need to explain herself.

'I'm sorry. I thought you knew this wasn't serious, that it was just for the fun of it. You're a nice man, a good man, and I'm sure you'll find someone and make her happy but you're not the one for me.'

'Is it because of who I am?'

'Because of who you are, because of who I am, because you could never offer me what I want in life.'

'I'd give you anything!' he protests. 'I'd give you my life if you wanted it.'

'I know but what use could it be to me?'

'Use?' he grimaces as he says the word, as if it were leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The pain of the shock has left the place to rage. He gets up and looks her in the eyes. 'That's what I am to you? Something to use? A sex-toy?' he asks angrily.

'An extremely satisfying one,' she purrs. She makes a move to caress his chest but he backs off.

The sense of betrayal is too strong; he cannot bear the touch of her anymore. She's all sensuality again but he sees through it now and he knows she's only trying to lure him into her arms again, into submission again. He won't let her do it.

She sees the change in him because her attitude changes once more. Gone is the temptress, the lover. She's fuming and glaring at him and he knows she only refrains from making a mess of the room because she doesn't want to attract the attention of the people in the adjacent bedrooms.

'I need a shower,' she decides suddenly. 'I can't stand the smell of you on me. I'm sure you'll find your way out alone.'

And she disappears in the bathroom, haughty and cruel like a cat no longer interested in the mouse it's just killed.

He gathers his clothes and starts to dress. He does it without thinking and his eyes wander over the bedroom. What he sees disgusts him; all the deceptive signs that he mistook for proofs of love but were mere prelude to sex in its crudest and most devoid of feelings form: from her silk baby doll nightie discarded on the floor to her lace knickers hanging from the drawer of the bedside table. Even the unopened bottle of champagne on the desk by the window, next to her vanity case. She didn't let him open it, dragging him to bed as soon as he had stepped into her bedroom. He thinks he can still have the use of it; he feels like drowning his sorrows. He laces up his shoes, puts his jacket on, and goes and fetches the bottle. As his hand closes on its neck bright colours inside the vanity case catch his eyes. It's full of medicines. He turns his head towards the bathroom door but he can hear the water running in the shower. He's ample time to inspect the pill boxes.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's note: Thanks for all the kind reviews; I must confess I enjoyed seeing all your guesses about who the couple was. I didn't have the heart to keep you in the dark any longer so here's the first chapter. As always, tell me what you think of it.

* * *

Thomas Lynley woke up to the sound of birds. Behind the drawn curtains, the sun was shining, a pale winter sun, not providing much heat but anything would be better than the cold drizzle that had welcomed him on his arrival on the island the previous evening. Anyway, he was firmly decided not to let the weather waste his weekend. He had packed accordingly so, come sun or rain, he would engage in his tight schedule of visits. He had been looking forward to this week-end on the Northumberland coast. He was happy Lord Cresswell had chosen this place for the club's annual meeting: he'd wanted to visit for ages. Unfortunately, this would be a very short visit, just enough time to visit Holy Island castle and priory, and Bamburgh Castle on the mainland. Some sort of teaser, just enough to make him want to come back and see more. If only Victoria weren't here with her new husband, things would be perfect. He stretched slowly, like a cat. He felt good; alive again. He had not felt that good since Helen's death and he knew whom he should thank for that.

Next to him, Barbara Havers moved in her sleep revealing a white heavy breast. Tommy smiled; even in her sleep his partner was an invitation to love. He moved closer to her and gently cupped her breast in his hand. The round breast fully filled his hand and he marvelled once more at how their bodies were admirably fitted for each other. He reveled in its firmness and the softness of the skin. He used his thumb to delicately draw circles around the nipple that hardened under the caress before slightly pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. Barbara stirred in her sleep and he replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing away the pain, before, delicately raising the sheet to look at the naked body of his lover. He liked every parts of it, knew every inches of it. Some people found her plump; he thought she had curves in all the right places.

 _I'll never have enough of her._

'Having licentious thoughts, m'lord?'

He lowered the sheet and looked at her. She was smiling, her beautiful eyes still clouded with sleep. There was no point in denying: his lower half was fully awake and, impatient to take action, was pressing against Barbara's thigh.

'I thought that maybe we could forget that visit to the castle and stay in bed all morning.'

'You're insatiable!' she laughed. 'After this night I thought you'd have enough for a month!'

'It's your fault: you're so beautiful.'

He kissed her tenderly. She put her arms around him and drew him closer.

'At least we could skip the breakfast,' he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

'Don't think of it. That's the most important meal of the day.'

Seeing he wouldn't win the argument, he sighed and fell back on his side of the bed.

'But nobody said we can't be late,' Barbara added smiling lasciviously.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alistair Pennyworth took his crutches and closed his door.

At 28, he was muscular and tanned, with light brown hair, green eyes, a flat nose and a dimple in his chin. He exuded confidence and youth, and in his grey casual chic designer suit, affluence. He was happy he had finally accepted that invitation from the Hastings club. He'd thought it would be boring, a gathering of old shrews and greybeards, swollen with pride because one of their ancestors was on the battlefield in 1066, nostalgic of a time when they ruled over their lands and had the power of life and death over their servants, and his bad legs would have been the perfect excuse to stay at home but curiosity had outweighed his reluctance to come. It was the first time he came to the club's annual meeting and he had been pleasantly surprised. Yes, some members were so old one could think they actually _were_ on the battlefield in 1066 but the younger members were pleasant enough. He'd had a nice conversation with Lord Asherton at dinner the evening before. The bloke was a Detective Inspector at the Met and he certainly didn't live in the past. Alistair didn't understand why his showing up with his girlfriend, Barbara, had caused such a stir. Sure, they looked ill-matched: he was a looker and she wasn't; he was blue-blood at its most refined, she had absolutely no idea how to behave in society; but it was obvious they were in love. There was no reason why the members of the club could resent her presence here. Still the group had been divided over her: some had made a show of not talking to her while others had welcomed her with open arms. Alistair reckoned it had something to do with Lady Victoria Juniper. She was overtly hostile towards the woman and Lord Cresswell, always the one for gossips, had told him it was because Asherton had preferred his current girlfriend over her. Personally Alistair wouldn't have made the same choice. Lady Victoria was about his age and a real breath-taker. She was a queenly woman with long curly brown hair, grey eyes, a porcelain complexion and a wasp waist. And the fiery look in her eyes whenever she saw Barbara Havers spoke about a passionate woman. In a fit of lust, Alastair thought she must be a terrific partner in bed. Which led him to think about the second thing he couldn't understand: Lord and Lady Juniper's marriage. Why on earth had such a beauty married a man old enough to be, not her father, but her grand-father? Old Juniper shouldn't be much fun in bed, Alistair reflected only to pull a face: the idea of a naked Victoria in bed with her husband disgusted him. Passing in the hall to go to the breakfast room he felt the receptionist's eyes on him. He smiled at her and she blushed slightly. She was very plain-looking but it felt good to know that even leaning on crutches his charm was intact. As he entered the breakfast room he felt propelled back in time to the British Empire.

Lord Randolph Juniper was seated at a table with Baroness Edwina Morton-Meyers, eating his breakfast and reading the morning newspaper. His Indian servant was standing several steps behind him, ready to attend to the wishes of the old man. Lady Morton-Meyers wearing a hunting tweed suit was barely touching her plate. She looked tired and Alistair wondered if she was ill. He went to their table to pay his respects.

'Good morning Juniper. Lady Morton-Meyers.'

Juniper took his eyes off his newspaper and greeted the young man:

'Good morning, Pennyworth. Would you like to join us for breakfast? You won't be able to serve yourself at the buffet with your crutches; just tell Riti what you want and he'll bring it at the table for you.'

'Thank you. I am most grateful to you for this kind offer.'

Eating his breakfast, brought to him by Lord Randolph's Indian servant, Alistair thought his great-grand father, a general in the Colonial Army, would have been more in his element than him. The scene certainly looked more like 1885 India than 2015 Northumbria.

'Do you know what we'll do this morning, Randolph?' Edwina asked her friend.

'Cresswell organized a guided tour of Lindisfarne castle and priory.'

'Old rocks,' she sighed.

'Rocks with a past,' he corrected.

'You're right, of course' she smiled apologetically. 'Are you going on the tour, Mr. Pennyworth?'

'I'm afraid my current condition forbids me to go, there's a treacherous cobbled slope at the entry to the castle I won't be able to manage.'

'Randolph, promise me you'll be careful,' Edwina said, with concern in her voice.

'Riti will be there to help me. I don't want to make a widow out of Victoria so soon after our marriage.'

'Will Lady Victoria join the tour?' Alistair asked.

'I don't think so. She went to bed last night, complaining of a migraine. It happens from time to time, she has terrible migraines that leave her exhausted.'

'It's her nerves, Randolph. She's so sensitive and with Asherton showing this woman around…it's been too much for her. I still can't believe he brought her here! I thought the Hastings club was an elite club.'

'It is, Edwina dear, and Asherton is a member by right, he's the direct descendant of a Norman knight, companion of William the Conqueror, who must be turning in his grave. It took 600 years to the Lynleys to go from knighthood to earldom and everything will go to waste in one generation.'

Alistair felt compelled to take the defense of the lovers.

'You're a bit hard, Juniper, Asherton's girlfriend seems nice enough. She's not a beauty,' Alistair flashed a smile to Edwina who accepted the compliment gracefully,' but she's witty.'

'Asherton's lucky his father's dead; if he were my son I would disown him!' Randolph erupted. 'But, on the other hand, if he had more sense I wouldn't be married with my dearest Victoria. Edwina, would you please be so kind as to go to Victoria's room and see if she needs something before we head off for the tour?'

'Of course, Randolph.'

'Thank you, my dear friend.'

Both men stood up and watched her leave.

'What will you do today then, Pennyworth?' Juniper asked.

'This morning, I'll probably seat somewhere with my binoculars and try my luck at bird-watching. This afternoon I'll go to the mainland and find a place from where I can have a nice overview of Holy Island. I fancy myself a painter and I'd like to do a watercolour of the place.'

'Excellent. You're not using your disability as an excuse to stay in bed. I like that. I always get up at the crack of dawn and can't stand laziness.'

A clear laughter could be heard coming from the entrance hall and Juniper's face darkened. He looked at his fob watch.

'They're late. Hardly surprising I suppose.'

Alistair turned his head and saw Asherton and his girlfriend enter the dining room. They both had circles under their eyes but they were beaming.

 _Well, looks like some of us had a very good night,_ he thought.

Near the French window of the room, a fortyish blonde woman, Lady Isobel Hardling, beckoned the couple over to the table she was sharing with her husband and a gay couple. Juniper sneered:

'It had to be expected: Lady Isobel has taken their side. Do you know her husband is her late father's secretary? But I guess it's still better than Cresswell's wedding, if such a thing can exist between two men. Look at them, Pennyworth, and contemplate the fall of the English aristocracy.'

Alistair looked at them and wished he were seated at their table. They were a nice group of people, the six of them, happily chatting over their breakfast. Cresswell's husband said something and they all laughed.

'I've enough, I'm going outside to smoke as we're not even permitted to smoke inside those days,' Juniper said.

He struggled to his feet with the help of his servant. Someone was running in the entrance hall.

'Can't the desk clerk tell this hooligan he mustn't run in the hotel? This is not a way to behave,' Juniper commented dryly.

But it was not a hooligan who rushed into the breakfast room; it was Baroness Edwina Morton-Meyers, in a state of shock.

'Victoria's dead! Oh my God, Randolph, she's dead!'


	3. Chapter 2

DI Vera Stanhope heard the news of the suspicious death just before her meeting with her boss. She knew what he would tell her: you're a good copper, your team has good results but don't forget you must dedicate yourself to strategic planning, leave the legwork to others, bla bla bla… so she was very tempted to skip the meeting and drive immediately to Holy Island but she resisted the urge and wearing her best professional smile she spent half an hour listening to the well-known speech. She knew it by heart, it was the same year over year since she has been promoted to inspector, which was quite some years ago already, so she listened with only half an ear, her brain already on the new case.

Holy Island. She had gone there once with Hector. He had heard some terns were nesting on the island so he'd gone, at night as always, to see if he could steal some eggs. And, as always, he had brought his daughter with him. There had been no nest and no other trip to Holy Island. She had heard that some posh palace hotel, the Orchard, had opened there. It had been major news in the area, a five-star hotel on the coast. There had been high expectations of wealthy tourists flocking to Northumberland, pouring money over the local restaurants, tearooms and arts and crafts shops. It was common knowledge that some shops had increased their prices overnight, most of them to realize that the rich tourists didn't stay long enough to make a living out of them. The tourist season was in summer so what was a group of aristocrats doing at the Orchard in November? She was getting restless, couldn't wait to go there and start the investigation. Joe was already there with Holly but Joe was always daunted by titles and wealth and Holly would want to make good impression to the gentry. So Vera jumped in Hector's old Land Rover as soon as the meeting was over, and drove to the island without any regard for the speed limits.

When she arrived at the Orchard, she noticed Joe's car and the CSIs van in the hotel carpark. _Good._ She pulled in front of the entrance, noticed the reproving look of the doorkeeper on her car, flashed him a smile and rushed indoor.

The hotel was new but everything in it seemed old. The architect and designers had obviously worked hard to give the place the look and atmosphere of a country mansion: black and white tiled floor, exposed beams, marbles and stucco decorations, paintings on the walls and foliage in big terracotta pots. A female reception clerk was busy on the phone, apparently cancelling a booking. A man in a white boiler suit with an evidence kit in hand walked past Vera. She hailed him:

'Where's our victim, pet?'

'Room 201, second floor, ma'am.'

Vera considered taking the lift but finally decided to take the stairs. She hadn't gone swimming this past week so that would compensate a little. Feeling virtuous she went upstairs. The room was big, a lavish suite. It opened on a beige drawing room where two sofas faced each other on each side of a glass-topped coffee table. Everything was a shade of beige: the walls, the sofas, the rug under the coffee table, even the curtains. Vera thought this was the most depressing room she had ever seen. She hated the new interior design fashion and its obsession for neutral tones. The furniture was modern, uninteresting and, after a quick glance at the sofas, she suspected uncomfortable. A huge flat screen TV set was pinned on wall above a hi-fi stereo. The only appeal of the room was the view from the two big windows: the eye could embrace the castle and the bay at once. The drawing room was clean and tidy, obviously the killer hadn't disturbed anything but two technicians were nonetheless busy dusting the room in search of fingerprints. On Vera's left, a double door, wide open, led to the bedroom. There, on a king-size bed, a young woman laid completely naked, her body contorted in an awful way. Billy Wainwright, the pathologist, was already there working on the body.

'What you got for me, Billy?'

'Young woman, body completely rigid and cold. No sign of wound.'

'Natural causes?' Vera asked, the irony showing in her voice.

'I keep an open mind.'

'Come on, Billy, look at her! Her body's screaming poison!'

'I keep an open mind.'

'The only remaining question is: suicide or murder?'

'There's no indication of a fight in the bedroom, no trace of wound on the body. She was young and fit. It doesn't mean she wasn't ill though. I'll need to do the PM before I'm able to answer your question.'

'All right but you can surely give me the time of death?'

'Very late last evening or early this morning, I'd say.'

'She's naked…'

'I noticed.'

'I bet you did,' Vera grinned at him; Billy Wainwright was notoriously a serial adulterer. Vera came closer to the bed to have a better look at the body. 'She was very beautiful. Any traces of sexual assault?'

'No, but she did have sexual intercourse shortly before she was killed.'

'So you'll have plenty of DNA material to work on.'

'The guy used condoms.'

'Pity.'

She looked around. She noticed the fine lingerie items discarded around the room, but it was the desk by the window that really drew her attention.

'Where's the bottle?' she asked but got no answer.

'There are two champagne flutes here but no bottle, did anyone take it?' she repeated clearly irritated.

'We didn't pack anything yet,' a technician answered.

'Thank you,' Vera said, stressing out each word.

Using a rubber glove, she delicately lifted the top of the vanity case.

'Billy, did you have a look at this?'

The pathologist threw a quick glance in her direction.

'Not yet,' he answered without stopping his work on the body.

'It's full of pill boxes. Why would a young woman need so many drugs?'

'One more time, I will be able to tell you when…'

'…you do the PM,' Vera completed his sentence. 'What are you waiting for?' she asked in exasperation.

Wainwright didn't even take the trouble to answer her.

Confronted with the unperturbed reaction of the pathologist, Vera continued her tour of the room. It was done quickly, apart from the bed and two nightstands, the desk by the window and a chair, there was only a wardrobe. She opened it and quickly searched through the clothes.

'Designer clothes,' she commented, 'totally inappropriate for the climate here.'

'Not everybody has your sartorial taste,' Billy joked.

'I'm not a fashion icon, I'll give you that, but, honestly, can you imagine me in one of those things?' she answered, putting in front of her a sheath dress.

He lifted his head just long enough to catch the glimpse of her large body jutting out from both sides of an elegant dress.

'My whole being shudders…'

'Naughty boy.'

She put the dress back into place and closed the wardrobe. She didn't go into the bathroom; she didn't want to muck the place before it was properly examined by SOCO. On her way out, she noticed a door in the drawing room. She went to a small, fat man in a dark suit, standing in a corner of the room, the hotel manager she supposed.

'DI Vera Stanhope. Where does this door lead to?'

'To the bedroom next to this one.'

'Communicating rooms. Interesting. Who's next door?'

'Lord Randolph Juniper. Lady Victoria's husband.'

'They didn't share the same room. Are they estranged?'

The man seemed shocked.

'It's very common for our aristocratic guests to ask for separate rooms and it doesn't denote a lack of affection between the spouses.'

'Did you dust the communicating door?' Vera asked a scene of crime technician.

'Yes, Ma'am, no fingerprint on it.'

Vera went to the door and turned the knobble. The door was locked.

'Have you a master key?' she asked the manager.

The man, pulled out a key on a waist chain, and opened the door. Vera tried the second communicating door. It was locked too.

'No lack of affection but they both locked their door.'

The manager didn't reply. He took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and dry the sweat on his forehead.

'Where is he now?'

'In the breakfast room. With our other guests.'

'How many clients have you at the moment?'

'We have around twelve guests.'

'That's not much.'

'We're off-season', the manager replied curtly, stung to the quick, 'anyway, we're a small hotel and that's the reason most of our guests come here. We offer them a stay in an authentic place, where they can enjoy true English hospitality and I would appreciate that you keep the disturbance in their stay at the minimum level possible. We have very important guests at the moment, the finest of English aristocracy.'

 _People with power and high-ranked acquaintances_ , Vera translated.

'We won't disturb them more than necessary, Mr…'

'Blackwell.'

'…Blackwell, but I doubt anything we could do could disturb them more than the news of a suspicious death.'

'We'd like to avoid any unnecessary publicity,' he replied stiffly.

'I've no doubt about that.'

Leaving the hotel manager turn to jelly on his own, Vera left the room and went downstairs to meet her team. She stepped into the breakfast room on the ground floor and beckoned DS Joe Ashworth.

'How are things going, Joe?'

'Not too bad. We started the interviews with Holly.'

'Who found the body?'

Joe had a look at his notes.

'Baroness Edwina Morton-Meyers. She insisted on talking only to the SIO.'

'I don't care what she wants or who she wants to talk to,' Vera replied sharply. 'You are a police officer and if I say you do the interview, you do the interview. And if you've no nerve to do it, I'll ask Holly.'

Joe thought that Vera knew where it hurt the most. She was acutely aware of the ongoing competition between DC Holly Clarke and him and knew how to use it.

'Okay, I'll do it. I just thought you'd be interesting in talking to her directly.'

'Hem…DS Ashworth?' a female voice interrupted. 'Here's the list.'

'Ah, thank you.'

Vera looked at Joe.

'What's this?'

'The list of the customers.'

'Vera?'

A male voice. Southern, posh. Vera had heard it before.

'Tommy? Tommy Lynley?'

She grinned at the newcomer.

'What are you doing here, Tommy man?'

'Tourism. I wanted to visit your beautiful region.'

'You shouldn't stay on the coast, then. Trust my word: go to the hills.'

'Are you in charge of the investigation?'

'I am.'

'Brilliant.'

Vera had a look around.

'Who are these persons?'

'The honorable members of the Hastings club and their partners.'

'What's that? Another of your male-only posh club?'

'Posh, yes but not male-only.'

'So I can join?' she asked teasingly.

'If you can prove one of your direct ancestor fought at the battle of Hastings in 1066 you're most welcome.'

'Forget it. You knew the victim?'

'Yes. She was my godfather's niece.'

'I'm sorry.'

'We weren't close.'

She eyed him with narrow eyes, sensing there was more in his answer that the meaning of the words.

'Did you give your statement, Tommy?'

'Not yet.'

'Well, let's remedy to that, then.'

She clapped her hands.

'Joe, find us a nice little table where we could talk to DI Lynley.'

'And Lady Morton-Meyers?' Joe asked.

'What with her again?'

'Shall I go with you or interview her?'

'She's not going to disappear, is she?'

'If you want to avoid her, we'd better get going,' Tommy said, taking Vera's elbow.

She had a look over her shoulder, and saw an aged woman in a tweed suit, coming at her at full steam, through the people standing in the room. They made way in front of her, like the sea parting in front of a ferry.

'Let's go.'

They ended up in the winter garden of the hotel. The name of the hotel, the Orchard, seemed a bit farfetched to Vera as the only fruit trees she could see where a dozen young orange trees in big wooden pots. Joe was ill-at-ease. He couldn't get his mind around Lynley. The man was a DI but he also belonged to the Hastings club so he was very likely an aristocrat but Vera seemed to know him and, perhaps more surprisingly, to like him. Who was he? He wasn't even on the list the receptionist had given him.

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite get your name, sir.'

'Lynley. Thomas Lynley.'

Joe had a second look at his list.

'Are you staying at the hotel, sir?'

'Maybe you'll find me under the name of Lord Thomas Asherton.'

'A blue-blood copper, not quite your usual fuzz, eh Joe?'

Vera was smiling. She was visibly having a good time at Joe's expenses. Joe didn't reply and checked his list again.

'Here you are. It says you came with Miss Barbara Havers, from Chalk Farm, London.'

'That's correct.'

'You share the room?' Vera asked, as if off the top of her head.

'We share the bed if that's what you want to know.'

'Straight to the point! That's what I like in you, Tommy.' She was grinning.

'Look Vera, I know how an investigation is run and I certainly don't want to interfere or ask you to bend some corners…'

'But you're going to do just that, aren't you?' The grin was gone.

'But I would really appreciate if you could maintain a certain level of discretion about my relationship with Barbara.'

'Oh? She's married?'

'Worse. She's my sergeant.'

'Oh, Tommy, I thought you'd know better. What is it with you, men? A bonny lass and your brain falls in your pants.'

'It's not a fling!' Tommy protested, 'it's a serious relationship.'

'Ouch, you're touchy on the subject.'

Tommy let out a sigh.

'I'm sorry. So, what do you want to know?'

'What can you tell me about Lady Victoria?'

'She was 28. She lost her parents at a young age and was raised by her uncle, Lord Worthington, my godfather. Old aristocratic family but not much money left. Rupert dreamt of a big wedding for Victoria, and by big I mean a rich husband, who could bring back some lustre to the estate. Vickie shared Rupert's dream and I suppose that's why she married Randolph Juniper.'

'You think she didn't love her husband?'

'Last May, she was after me. I had to make it clear to her I wasn't interested and, let's just say, she reacted badly. But in November, Randolph and she got married. That was, er, unexpected, to say the least.'

'Because she went over you quickly or because of the age of the husband?' Joe asked.

Vera raised an eyebrow.

'Why? How old is he?'

'Seventy-five,' Joe replied.

Vera let out a long low whittle.

'So in 6 months she went from you,' she pointed at Tommy,' to a septuagenarian? Was she so desperate to find a husband?'

'Because he's old doesn't mean she didn't love her husband,' Joe protested.

Vera thought Joe would always be a softie but she didn't dismiss his comment; she wanted to hear Tommy's point of view, which he provided right away:

'It seemed to be a hasty decision and I didn't understand the urgency. It had only been six months between my telling Victoria she'd have to find herself someone else and the wedding. Even if Randolph had been her age, I would still have been surprised by the rapidity of the decision. And, yes, the groom's age was a shock, obviously. To answer your question, Vera, Victoria was young and her situation was far from desperate. She was smart, educated, and stunningly beautiful. She could turn any man's head.'

'She didn't turn yours.'

'I was already in love with Barbara.'

'When did you last see young Vickie?' Vera asked.

'I know you're allergic to snobbishness, Vera, but given the circumstances I suggest you refer to people using the appropriate form.'

'There's no way I'm going to call you milord, pet.'

Tommy smiled.

'I don't want you to but some people, especially Lord Randolph and Lady Morton-Meyers, attach great importance to the respect of the etiquette.'

'So? When did you last see Lady Victoria, Tommy?' Vera asked, insisting on the "Lady".

'At dinner, yesterday evening.'

'Did you notice anything?'

'I didn't get to talk to her. It was obvious from the start that she resented Barbara's presence, she was openly unfriendly, so we just did our best to avoid each other.'

'You preferred your friend over her, no wonder she was jealous,' Vera commented.

'It could have made sense at the time but not after her marriage,' Tommy replied.

'How did her husband react?' Joe asked.

He wouldn't be happy to see his Sal jealous of an ex-lover's girlfriend.

'He sided with her but for reasons of his own.'

'Such as?' Vera asked, leaning forwards towards him.

'Randolph thinks that the world is divided into two categories of people: the aristocrats on the one hand and those who serve them on the other; and the two don't mix socially.'

'And your Barbara doesn't belong to the good category.'

'Hardly. To be perfectly honest, I suppose one could say she's as prejudiced as Randolph, but the other way round. I guess for her aristocrats are somewhere between tapeworms and Koch's bacilli.'

'She's not prejudiced against you.'

'Oh, she used to be and not shy to let me know. But I like to think she now sees me as the exception that proves the rule.'

'Do you know at what time Lady Victoria went to sleep?'

Joe put the conversation back on tracks. He couldn't see the relevance of Vera's questions about Lynley's girlfriend and thought she was just being nosy.

'No, I don't. Barbara and I went to bed before her.'

'What time was that?' Vera continued.

'About eleven.'

'And the others?'

'They were all downstairs in the lounge. We were the first to leave for the night.'

'Where's your room?'

'On the first floor. Room 102.'

'Did you hear anything that night?'

'No.'

'Do you know if she had problems?'

'What sort of problems?'

'I don't know. I guess she was a woman who could stir envy or jealousy or she could have upset someone in one way or the other. You don't know anyone who could have held a grudge against her?'

'You're asking me if I know anyone who could have wished her dead? Is that a murder investigation?'

'At this stage I'm considering every options. So?'

Lynley closed his eyes and slowly rubbed his forehead with the fingertips of his left hand. Vera let him gather his thoughts, gesturing to Joe to keep mum. Finally, Tommy opened his eyes and answered:

'I don't know why anyone would want to kill Victoria but that doesn't mean nobody did. I don't think anyone benefit from her death. She didn't have much on her side and what she had will go to Randolph who's already extremely rich. She was Lord Worthington's heir but, as far as I know, there's nobody left now to claim his inheritance and in any case there's probably more debt than money to be collected here. So, now we're done with money, passion. Victoria was not a nun. She was beautiful and she knew it but I've never heard of any scandal. I guess she was clever enough to avoid them. We can't exclude a cheated wife or a dumped girlfriend but why wait till after she was married? There's also the possibility of a rejected lover: 'If I can't have you, nobody will.' Why not?'

Tommy paused and gave Vera an apologetic smile.

'I'm sorry, I'm not of much help to you, am I?'

'On the contrary, Tommy, that's a nice sum up, one I wish my team gave me. Did you write everything down, Joe? Because that's the leads you'll be following once we're back at the station.'

Joe mumbled a "Yes" without taking his eyes off of his notepad. Vera went on:

'How was the relationship going between her and her husband?'

'From what I saw yesterday they got on well but appearances can be deceitful.'

'More often than not, yes. What time did you leave your room this morning?'

'Shortly after 9. We were a bit late. We were supposed to have breakfast all together at 8:30 and then go for a visit of Bamburgh castle at 9:30.'

'Had a lie-in?' Vera teased him

'That's one way to say it,' Tommy replied after a second of hesitation.

Joe raised an eyebrow. Vera translated with a grin:

'They played doctor.'

Tommy didn't answer but his loop-sided smile was enough a confirmation.

'Well, Joe, I think we know what we needed to know at this stage. Let's get back inside.'

They all got up and went back to the hotel lobby. As she walked near him, Vera asked Tommy.

'Pardon my curiosity but your relationship with Barbara, is it really serious?'

'It is.'

Vera stopped and put her hand on his arm to stop him.

'Tommy, I'll try my best to send you all back home at the soonest but I cannot give you any guarantee you'll be at work on Monday morning. You may want to start thinking of a way to explain to your boss why you and your sergeant are stuck up North.'

'Thank you for your concern, Vera, but you don't need to worry about that. Barbara and I knew from the start the moment would come when we'd have to tell our hierarchy. If this moment is now, then so be it.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Barbara Havers watched as Tommy went outside with the fat middle-aged woman and the good-looking DS. He had seemed relieved to see the inspector. 'Vera Stanhope', he had called her before adding 'a very good copper.' Barbara thought that if that was true then the clothes certainly didn't make the woman but then that was what everybody could say of _her_ too. She screened the room. After Edwina had come back and tell them of her gruesome finding, Tommy had taken command of the group and had ordered everyone to stay in the breakfast room and that's where they all were. The Hardlings and Cresswells were still at the table they had occupied for breakfast. Lord Cresswell seemed to be the most affected by the news of the death but as the organizer of the week-end he felt he had some responsibility for what had happened despite everyone contradicting him. Lord Juniper was shaken but putting a brave face. _Stiff upper lip,_ Barbara sneered inwardly, _I wonder what it'd take for him to let his feelings show._ Seated at his table was Lady Morton-Meyers. To ease her shock, someone had brought her a glass of brandy that she'd knocked back without flinching but Barbara wondered if she was in shock. She didn't look like she was. She looked…upset? Yeah, upset. As she had found the body and had the highest title of the women lot, she obviously had thought she'd be the one the police would want to talk to and when the DI had disappeared with Tommy, Lady Edwina had taken this as a case of lese-majesty. Without really knowing why Barbara felt sorry for the man who shared their table: Alistair Pennyworth. He didn't seem as stuck-up as them and looked like he could have done with a glass himself. She heard rumble in the lobby and peeked in the corridor. Officers in white paper-suits were going upstairs led by the hotel manager. _SOCO's going to search the rooms_ , Barbara thought. The idea of someone going through her things in her bedroom made her uncomfortable. She hoped Tommy and she had well tidied the room before dashing out quickly this morning; they really had made a mess of it last night. Had she really collected all the clothes they had discarded around the room? She thought yes but wasn't totally sure and she crossed her fingers Tommy had had the presence of mind to put some order on the desk else she was sure she'd die of embarrassment. Already she could feel the red come to her cheeks. The return of the good-looking sergeant ended her reverie. Joe Ashworth was his name. They were the same rank but he was younger than her. He passed his fingers through his short dark hair to put them back into place and waited at the entrance of the room. Tommy and the inspector followed soon. Tommy crossed the room in her direction and she caught Vera's eyes on her. The fat detective smiled at her but Barbara could read a lot of questions in her eyes. Then she went to the middle of the room and started to speak in a loud clear voice:

'Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm DI Vera Stanhope from Northumbria Police. I am the senior investigative officer on this case. DS Ashworth, DC Clarke, and I are going to talk to each of you.'

Vera was the center of attention of all the people in the breakfast room but she was very at ease.

'She likes the attention,' Barbara whispered to Tommy.

'She's a show-runner but don't underestimate her, she's clever. Probably one of the best.'

'You'll always be number one for me,' Barbara replied and he smiled tenderly.

Vera was coming to the end of her little speech:

'..that's why we need your assistance to find out what happened last night. Ah, Charlie! Thanks for joining us,' she told a rather scruffy man in his fifties.' Lady Morton-Meyers, I'll start with you if you don't mind. Charlie, you're with me; Joe and Hol, you're together.'


	4. Chapter 3

Vera eyed the woman in front of her, clad in a tweed hunting suit. She had no problem picturing her with a hunting gun, watching as the hounds have their quarry. If she'd been shocked by the discovery of the body, she showed no sign of it anymore: her breathing was calm, her grey hair neatly put in a severe chignon. She had an upright bearing, her hands resting on her lap. She wasn't giving anything of what she was thinking or feeling and Vera thought she'd have a hard time reading all those adepts of the stiff-upper-lip attitude. Maybe she could ask Tommy Lynley for a crash course?

'Lady Edwina, can you please tell us through your discovery of the body of Lady Juniper?'

'That's incorrect,' the old woman replied curtly.

'You didn't find the body?' Vera asked, surprised.

'I did. What's incorrect is your use of the titles. You should address me as Lady Morton-Meyers or as My Lady.'

Vera bit her tongue to hold back a snarky reply that would only make things worse, made a mental note to ask Lynley for another crash course on "Posh titles and how to use them" and repeated her question in the most neutral tone as possible:

'So Lady Morton-Meyers, can you please tell us through your discovery of the body of Lady Juniper?'

Edwina considered the question, the woman who had asked it, seemed to reckon she couldn't expect more from a country bumpkin, and deigned answer:

'I went to her suite shortly after nine this morning.'

'Was it usual?'

'I beg your pardon?'

 _Oh God,_ Vera sighed, _this is going to be a long day._

'Did you usually go to her bedroom to wake her up?'

'Of course not,' Edwina answered as if the whole idea was ludicrous. 'But Randolph was concerned she might be ill and asked me to go. She had complained of migraine.' She spat the last word as if migraine didn't exist in this world and was simply an excuse for weak women to stay in bed. 'I knocked on her door but she didn't reply. I tried the doorknob, a reflex I suppose, and the door wasn't locked so I went in. The room was quiet and that surprised me because she had to be in there, she wouldn't have left her door unlocked else, and I thought that maybe she was ill after all. So I went to her bedroom and she was lying on her bed, unconscious. You saw the corpse; I don't need to explain why I realized at once she was dead. I'm afraid I lost my nerves then; I ran downstairs and told everybody.'

'I take it you didn't share Lord Juniper's concern about his wife's health?

'What makes you think so?'

'You said that maybe she wasn't ill _after all_. Does that mean you didn't think she was ill?'

'I thought the name of her illness was Asherton.'

'What do you mean?'

'It is public knowledge that not so long ago Victoria fancied herself as the next Lady Asherton but the count preferred someone else over her. I cannot blame him but he chose a woman of such a low extraction it is embarrassing. Victoria took as a personal affront his presence here with this woman.'

'So you thought she was sulking?'

'She knew Randolph would do anything to please her. Since the beginning, she's abused his good-will and affection. She led him by the nose but he was too infatuated with her to notice.'

'You think she pretended to feel unwell just to have him… console her?'

'I don't know what she had in mind but I'm sure she didn't suffer from migraine. She suffered from a hurt pride. She would have been perfectly fine if Asherton had not had the bad taste to come here with his strumpet.'

Vera's dislike of Lady Morton-Meyers grew exponentially but she managed to bite back the harsh reply she already had on her tongue.

'You really don't like that woman.'

'I knew Lady Helen, Lord Asherton's late wife. She was the daughter of Lord Clyde. She was good-looking and well-behaved as befits a countess. She must turn in her grave seeing him compromising himself with that woman.'

'Or she's happy he found someone to grow old with,' Vera replied with a mischievous little smile.

Edwina looked at the detective condescendingly.

'I didn't expect you to understand the obligations that come with a title.'

Vera felt like punching the woman so she changed subject.

'When did you arrive on Holy Island?'

'Yesterday afternoon.'

'Did you meet Lady Juniper?'

'Lord and Lady Juniper were already here.'

'Did you notice anything unusual about Lady Juniper? Did she look anxious or depressed?'

'Not at all. Actually she seemed quite happy to be here.'

'She didn't mind seeing Lord Asherton then?'

'We didn't expect him to come. We'd been told he was kept in London by his work,' the scorn in her voice was unmistakable; Lady Morton-Meyers didn't think well of hereditary peers with a regular job. 'Apparently he managed to have his week-end off.'

'Does that mean everybody knew in advance who will come to Holy Island?'

'Certainly.'

'What's your room number?'

'202.'

'Same floor as Lady Juniper.'

'Yes but I'll spare you the trouble of asking: I didn't notice anything strange last night.'

'Well, thank you, Lady Morton-Meyers.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At another table Joe and Holly were talking to Barbara.

'I suppose it's not easy being around these folks,' Joe said.

'I'm way out of my depth,' Barbara sighed, 'but Tommy was looking forward to this week-end. Some old buildings he wanted to see; he's a bit of a history freak. He changed shifts with another DI to come. I'm sure he regrets now.'

'When did you arrive?'

'Yesterday, late afternoon. We were delayed a bit by the weather. Just the time to change into dry clothes and it was time to have dinner.'

'How did it go?'

'As nicely as expected,' Barbara replied dryly.

'Care to develop?'

'I'm a Muggle among a flock of Pure-bloods.'

Joe understood perfectly the reference, having seen all the Harry Potter's films with his eldest daughter.

'They don't like you.'

'Not all of them hate me but I'm exacerbating the tensions between the upholders of the tradition and the modernists. The formers openly snubbed me while the latters made a show of welcoming me with open arms.'

'And the victim?'

'She couldn't stand being in the same room as me. She still hadn't got over the fact that Tommy preferred me over her.'

'But she was married. Why care about an old story?'

'Oh, she was married all right, and to a man of the sort she wanted, with a nice title and loads of money but that certainly didn't keep her warm at night.'

'Did you notice anything in particular last evening?'

'No but Victoria and I did our best to avoid each other. She was at a table with her husband, Edwina Morton-Meyers and Alistair Pennyworth. Tommy and I were with Lord Cresswell and his husband, and the Hardlings.'

'When did you leave for the night?'

'At around eleven. We were the first to go. We went straight to our room, number 102,' she indicated to Holly who was taking notes. 'We didn't move the whole night and didn't hear anything.'

'Well, thank you, er, Miss Havers.'

'No problem.'

Barbara got up but sat down again immediately.

'Actually, there's something. I'm not sure it's relevant but I hate it when people don't tell me everything during an investigation.'

Joe smiled; he hated that too.

'Tell me.'

'During the dinner, there was some sort of fuss at her table. Apparently Juniper couldn't find his pills. I don't know what sort of medication he's on but it seemed to bother him a lot. He had his Indian servant look everywhere but he couldn't find them.'

'That's interesting.'

'And that's all,' Barbara replied and left.

'What did you say Lynley was?' Holly asked Joe.

'An earl.'

'Well, she doesn't look like a countess and I can understand why some of them think they're ill-fitted.'

'I like her,' Joe said.

'She's not in the clear yet. She could have had a motive.'

'A motive? What sort?'

'Dunno. Jealousy perhaps. If Lady V. wasn't over Lynley yet maybe Havers felt threatened. Juniper's old, the marriage wasn't going to last long, and then Victoria would have been free to go after Lynley again.'

'You think Lynley would have changed his mind?'

'Maybe. Look at him: tall, handsome, elegant. Women should be drawn to him like bees to the honey pot. Havers could have wanted to get rid of a possible rival.'

'I'm not convinced,' Joe replied, his eyes fixed on Tommy. 'He's certainly a man women would fight for; but is he a man a woman would kill for?'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vera was rapidly running out of patience with Lord Juniper. She knew she was supposed to show restraint and compassion, after all he was an old man who had just lost his wife under suspicious circumstances, but his attitude, the way he looked down on her, the way he talked to her like he were doing her a favour were testing the limits of her already limited patience and good-will.

'I told you, Detective Inspector, my wife wasn't depressed. Quite the contrary actually. She was happy to come to the club meeting with me. She certainly had been upset when she saw Asherton had brought this woman he became infatuated with but to suggest she could have killed herself is ridiculous.'

'When did you see your wife for the last time, Lord Randolph?'

'Yesterday evening. After dinner some of us played bridge in the drawing room. Victoria played with Pennyworth and the Hardlings. I was with Cresswell, his partner and Lady Morton-Meyers. Victoria left at quarter past eleven, complaining of migraine. That's when I last saw my wife. I went to my bedroom shortly after, took my sleeping pills and went to bed.'

'Did you and your wife usually sleep in separate rooms?'

'We maintained a suitable behaviour. We are civilized people not concupiscent beasts.'

 _Take that Lynley and Havers_ , Vera thought. The more she heard, the more she understood why Lynley didn't like being reminded of his title. He had so little in common with the ones like Morton-Meyers and Juniper.

'Now, Detective Inspector, if you'll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make. There are things that need to be done as you would understand.'

'Of course, thank you for your help.'

'That's not the end of it. I am going to help you further.'

'How?'

'I personally know the Metropolitan Police Commissioner, I am sure he will propose his best detectives to the Northumberland Chief Constable to help him handle this case.'

'And we will thank him for his offer but the Met has no jurisdiction here and we do have most able officers up North, one of them being yours truly.'

'Hear me well, Detective Inspector, I want the best team investigating my wife's murder.'

'We don't know yet if it was a murder.'

'And you dare say you don't need help.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Pfff ! It was weird being on the bad side of the questions,' Barbara said as she followed Tommy on the terrace of the hotel where some metal tables and chairs were left to rust slowly. The weather was relatively mild and the morning fog had disappeared. There was a damp earthly scent in the air. Barbara brushed away the dead leaves covering a chair and sat.

'It's not nice, is it?' Tommy replied as he sat near her.

She took a cigarette from her packet.

'You know the strangest thing? Although I knew I did nothing wrong, that I have nothing to do with Vickie's death, I couldn't help wondering how they would interpret my answers, if what I was telling them would sound coherent or suspect. I mean it's common knowledge there was no love lost between Vickie and me but I was tempted to minimize our hostility out of fear it could be misinterpreted. Do you understand?'

She struck a match and lit up her cigarette. Tommy smiled.

'I do. I know exactly how you felt. Do you know I once was suspected of murder?'

She looked at him with big round eyes, petrified until her lit match burnt her fingers. She let it go with a swear word.

'You? And who were you suspected of having killed?'

'Edward Davenport.'

Seeing she didn't recognize the name he added:

'Judith's husband.'

'Judith's…No. No!' She shook her head violently, frowned then asked, ill-assured: 'No?'

'Of course, no!' He took her hand and kissed it, 'even if I sometimes dreamt of it.'

'Oh, really?'

He didn't reply but his brown eyes became black.

'OK, really.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw the door to the hotel open and Alistair Pennyworth hobble out on his crutches.

'I'll tell you everything, darling, but not now.'

'Hello, lovebirds!' Pennyworth greeted them. 'Sorry to disturb you but I needed fresh air.'

Tommy pulled out a chair for the younger man; Pennyworth sat and heaved a sigh of relief.

'Thank you. I can't stand those blasted crutches anymore.'

He started rubbing the palms of his hands.

'Sometimes I have the impression the handles have permanently deformed my hands. It aches a lot.'

'You've been using them for long?' Barbara asked.

'For more than six months now. Given that I had been stuck in a wheelchair for almost a year before that I guess one can say that's a big improvement but I can't wait for the moment I'll be able to walk without assistance.'

'You were in an accident?'

A cloud of sadness darkened Pennyworth's face.

'I'm sorry,' Barbara apologized, 'I'm being nosy.'

'No, no, don't worry. It's just…I had a car crash in Lesotho. I had gone there with my best friend to do a trek in the mountains and we were on our way back home to South Africa when it happened. A truck. The driver had been pulling long hours to earn a bit more money and he felt asleep behind the wheel. It crushed our car, crushed my legs, and broke my friend's neck. He died instantly. He was like a brother to me. I developped survivor's guilt, and I fell in depression. I couldn't imagine going on with my life as if nothing had happened. The doctors were worried about me, about my morale. I had no family left in Africa so they encouraged me to get back in touch with my family in England. I didn't know them, I was born and raised in South Africa but I knew I still had a great-aunt so I contacted her. We had never met or talk to each other but we got on well. She took to phone me regularly while I was in hospital and her calls really lifted my spirits. She's aged, and almost blind. She was feeling lonely too. There was nothing or no one left for me in South Africa so as soon as I was able to travel I came to England, to Aunt Hetty. That was just before Christmas last year.'

He smiled at Barbara apologetically.

'I must sound horribly melodramatic. Please, forgive me. You asked a very straightforward question and I answered with a long rant about my life.'

'Maybe because you needed to talk,' Barbara replied softly, 'to unburden yourself.'

'Thank you very much for your understanding.'

Alistair smiled fondly at Barbara who blushed.

'Have you been questioned yet?' Tommy asked more curtly than he'd intended.

'Not yet. The fat inspector is finally questioning Juniper and her colleagues are with Cresswell. I hope I'll be interviewed by them.'

'Why? Do you fear facing Inspector Stanhope?' Tommy asked. 'Are you afraid she might discover something about you?'

'Oh God, no! Nothing so sinister. But I'm a man and given the choice between her and the lovely young DC Holly Clarke…'

'Beware the lovely young DC's,' Barbara teased him, 'you might stop using your brain with them and say something you might regret later.'

'I've nothing to hide,' Pennyworth replied. 'I'm as pure and innocent as a new-born babe.'

'But you're delaying your interview by coming in this garden,' Tommy said only half-jokingly.

Pennyworth's smile faded.

'I forgot you're detectives too. I must be careful what I tell you.'

He sighed and smiled again.

'But what's said is said. You must be good at your work, Asherton, because you're right; I slipped out with the shameful goal of smoking a cigarette before I'm questioned. I find this situation terribly upsetting and I thought a cigarette would calm my nerves. I know I sound pathetic; I didn't even know Lady Victoria two days ago. I admire Juniper's calm. I daren't think how I'd have reacted if it were my wife who had died.'

He took a long thin cigarette out of a battered silver cigarette holder, then he felt his pockets in search of something to lit it.

'Do you want some fire?' Barbara asked. She handed him a matchbox with the name of the hotel on it.

'Thank you. I was sure my lighter was in my jacket pocket.'

'You can't count on them, lighters. Mine ran out of fuel as soon as I arrived here. I had to go to the reception and asked for some matches. The desk clerk saved my life.'

'So you say; I say she helped you get lung cancer,' Tommy said gloomily.

'Don't pay attention to him,' Barbara warned Pennyworth. 'He's an ex-smoker.'

'Wise decision,' Pennyworth told Lynley, 'one I keep delaying.'

'Are you settled definitely in England or do you plan to go back to Africa?' Barbara asked.

'That's the one-million-pound question and I haven't the answer yet. I love Aunt Hetty, we're very much alike, and I don't want to leave her all alone again. But I confess I find the weather terrible! I was made for the bathed-in-light savannah not for foggy London.'

He laughed and Barbara thought that the savannah should indeed be his natural environment. With his light brown hair, his gold-streaked green eyes, and his flat nose bridge there was something of a lion in him.

The hotel manager rushed into the garden. He seemed to be at the end of his tethers. He drew out a large white handkerchief and wiped the beads of sweat on his forefront.

'Mr Pennyworth, the police officers would like to talk to you now.'

'Summoned before the court!' Pennyworth exclaimed dramatically. 'And who's asking for me, Mr Blackwell? Please, tell me it's the young lovely constable.'

'I'm sorry, Mr Pennyworth, but it's that ugly woman inspector.'

Alistair pulled a face and Barbara laughed. Blackwell didn't notice him leaving, he was too busy complaining to Tommy.

'This is madness. How am I supposed to run this hotel when there are police officers and people in paper suits all over the place? And that inspector…Christ in heavens, she looks like a bag-lady! And her manners…I heard her call Lady Isobel "pet".'

Tommy hid his smile behind his hand.

'"Pet!" Could you believe it, milord? To Lady Isobel, who is one of the finest guests we ever had the honour to receive here! With Your Lordship, of course,' Blackwell added obsequiously.

Tommy brushed aside the compliment with a small gesture of his hand. He didn't like the servility of the hotel manager.

'DI Stanhope may not be your accustomed kind of guests, Mr Blackwell, but I can assure you she's bright. You couldn't have wanted a better officer in charge of this case.'

'I do certainly hope so, milord. That's a tragedy. If word spreads out that one of our most distinguished guests was found dead in her bedroom, that'll be the end of this place. Do you think the police will be discreet?'

'I wouldn't worry too much about the police if I were you, Mr Blackwell, I'd be much more concerned about the tabloids. It won't be long until they hear about Lady Victoria's death and they will all come here in search of sensationalism.'

Colours drained from Blackwell's rubicund face.

'Oh my God, milord, you're right. I didn't think about that. I'd better go back to my office; I need to be prepared.'

Blackwell dabbed his mouth, neatly folded his handkerchief and put it back in his pocket, then he gazed at his reflection in the French windows, smoothed down a tuft of hair with the palm of his hand, and satisfied with his appearance, went inside.

'What a filthy slimy toad!' Barbara exclaimed. 'He kowtows to your aristocratic lot but he's more concerned about the reputation of his hotel than about the death of a young woman.'

'Yes, he's not a likeable man.'

'I hope Pennyworth is not having too hard a time with the inspector.'

'She's not a bad person, but she certainly won't be fooled by his sweet talk'.

'You don't like him,' Barbara said accusingly.

'I've nothing against him,' Tommy protested. 'Really,' he added seeing the unconvinced look in Barbara's eyes. 'He just gets on my nerves a bit.'

'Oh please, don't tell me you're jealous.'

'He flirted with you! Just under my nose! '

Barbara laughed.

'He wasn't flirting; he was just being nice.'

'Well, he was being too nice.'

Barbara went to sit on Tommy's lap and looked him in the eyes.

'Trust me, Tommy, you've no cause to be jealous. Besides, I'm sure he knows he doesn't stand a chance against you.'

'He's good-looking. And young.'

'There's the rub; I prefer men with more… experience.'

'More experience?' Tommy lifted an eyebrow.

'Yes. A man who knows where to touch me...'

Tommy caressed her thighs and back.

'Where to kiss me…'

He kissed the hollow of her shoulder, then the soft spot behind her earlobe. Barbara closed her eyes with pleasure. She turned her head and offered her lips. Tommy took them eagerly.

'Do you think SOCO's done with our bedroom?' he muttered between two kisses.

'I thought we came here to tour the island,' Barbara teased him.

'The island won't go anywhere.'


	5. Chapter 4

Later in the afternoon, at Kimmerston's police station, Vera and her team were reviewing their findings.

'Here's our victim,' she started, pinning a picture of Victoria on a white board. 'Lady Victoria Juniper, 28. Poisonned or so it seems. First bet: strychnine. A painful way to die and an unlikely choice for a suicide. We're still waiting for the PM but I don't believe in the suicide theory so unless Billy Wainwright says otherwise treat this as a murder case. I'd say it was personal. We're looking for someone who knew the victim, who was, in one way or another, close to her.'

'Poison is more commonly used by women,' Joe cut in.

'True enough but not exclusively so don't rule out the men yet. Holly, I want to know everything about our victim. Where she had gone, the people she knew, what she did on her spare time, her shoe size. Everything.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Last November, that gorgeous young lass married Lord Randolph Juniper, 75.'

'No hope lost for you yet, Charlie,' someone joked and they all laughed.

'It'd help if I had a fine-sounding title,' Charlie grumbled.

'And several million pounds on your bank account,' Vera added. 'It seems Lady Victoria was interested in wealthy men...Hol, check her bank accounts too; see if there were some strange transactions lately.'

The constable nodded and added the task to her to-do list.

'Could the murderer be a jealous man?' she asked.

'Or a jealous woman. Charlie, I want you to check all the alibis.'

'All the hotel guests were in bed!' he protested, 'how am I going to check that?'

'For an officer with your experience it will be a piece of cake,' Vera countered. 'Joe, what are you reading that's more interesting than our situation meeting?'

Joe looked up, slightly embarrassed.

'SOCO's first findings.'

'Care to share or are we supposed to read your thoughts?'

'They found used condoms in the bathroom bin. It confirms Lady Victoria had a bit of fun before her death.'

'Her husband?' Holly asked.

'He said he didn't go in her bedroom and didn't see her after she'd gone to bed the previous evening,' Vera replied. 'We're looking for a lover. Press the lab to expedite the DNA analysis. We need to talk to that man as soon as possible.'

Joe nodded distractedly; he was still reading the report.

'What?' Vera thundered.

'SOCO found a similar pack of condoms in another room.'

'Oh? Whose room?

Joe looked up and replied almost defiantly: 'Lynley's.'

Vera immediately downplayed the information.

'That doesn't mean anything,' she replied in a tone that accepted no comment. 'He shares the room with his girlfriend. He even told us that their relationship was by no means platonic.'

'You cannot ignore that fact because Lynley's your pal,' Joe protested loudly.

Vera reacted as if he had slapped her in the face.

'Lynley's not a _pal_ ,' she replied, her voice as cold as ice, 'he's a colleague and he has no treatment of favour because of that. I just don't want to lose time over triffles.'

'We can't rule him out yet,' Joe insisted.

'Who said we did?' Vera replied frostily. 'But I don't see what his motive could have been so forget about Lynley for the moment and focus on the husband: Lord Randolph Juniper. According to the stats, he should be our main suspect. All the more if Victoria had a lover.'

'According to all the witnesses he was deeply in love with his wife. Do you think he knew and was only pretending?'

'He wouldn't have shouted from the rooftops that he had marital problems. For these people, appearances are to be preserved at all costs. More than ever you should consider their statements with a critical eye, Joe, so you're going to scratch the surface and find what lies under it.'

'And you, what are you going to do?'

'I'm going to the morgue. Billy should have finished the PM by now.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Vera arrived at the morgue, the forensic pathologist was drinking a large cup of dark tea in his office separated from the autopsy room by a glass wall. He gestured to Vera to help herself. He looked exhausted.

'You look awful, Billy.'

'Thank you, Vera. It's good to know I'll always have you to support me.'

'You need a good night's sleep. Or twelve.'

'Not going to have it tonight.'

'Your frivolous life will kill you. You can do whatever you want to pretend to still be young, and it can fool some young lasses, but you can't fool your body.'

'I saw Lord Pretty Face at the Orchard this morning,' Wainwright said suddenly.

'Lynley? He's staying at the hotel with his girlfriend.'

'You talked to him?'

'Of course. He's a witness.'

'He still looks good. I wonder how old he is.'

Vera laughed.

'Don't compare yourself to him, Billy man.'

'Why not?' the pathologist replied, vexed.

'Lynley's in a category of his own. I noticed it when we first met at that conference in Leeds. He entered the room and suddenly all the women's - and a few men's - attention were on him. He stole the show without even trying to. I reckon it must have been the same with our victim, Lady Victoria.'

'Probably. You want to know my conclusions?'

'I'm not here for the tea,' was the sharp reply.

Billy Wainwright put down his mug and went to fetch a folder on his desk. He opened it and went straight to the main points of his report.

'She was poisoned. Strychnine.'

'Tell me something I don't already know. Time of death?'

'Between four and five this morning.'

'So she took the poison at, what? Three? Three and a half?'

'At the earliest, yes. Strychnine kills within 20 minutes.'

'How was it administrated?'

'She swallowed it.'

'Intentionally?'

'It's your job to find out but that's not strychnine I would choose for my suicide. You saw the body, how it was arched. Strychnine induces strong muscular cramps and violent spasms. Horribly painful.'

'Did you find any indication that someone forced her to swallow it?'

'No, but her stomach contained some undigested pills. Prescription drugs. I'd say she swallowed the lot at the same time. Maybe someone replaced her drugs with the poison.'

'The pills were for migraine?'

'No, sleeping pills and anti-emetic.'

'So she really was unwell.'

'She wasn't ill, she was pregnant.'

Vera threw a sad look at the body lying on the autopsy table under a white sheet.

'Since when?'

'Six weeks.'

'You confirm she had consented sexual intercourse shortly before her death?'

'Yes, and the guy used condoms.'

'SOCO found them. When do you think we'll have the results of the DNA analysis?'

'Probably on Monday.'

'I want them tomorrow. Anything else?'

Billy went through the rest of the report rapidly.

'No, that's all.'

'Thank you, Billy.'

Vera got up, pulled at her creased flowery dress and headed for the door. She stopped just before it and turned towards the pathologist.

'Billy? The baby...Victoria's husband is 75. Can he be the father?'

'I wouldn't recommend it; DNA's quality worsens with age and we see more genetic diseases in offsprings of aged father but, technically, nothing prevents it. He can be the father.'

'I wonder if he knew,' were the last words the pathologist heard before the door closed on the inspector.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alistair Pennyworth hung up the phone in his bedroom and smiled. His aunt had assured him she understood that he needed to prolong his stay at the Orchard and that this would inevitably lead to additional expenses she had agreed to cover. She could be an old goat, with a bad temper and tyrannical manners - her at-home nurse and home staff feared her more than they respected her - but Alistair had always known how to charm old bags like her. To be honest, he liked her very much; she was amusing, witty, and always ready to have a good laugh - particularly at other's expenses. Having secured the funding of his stay, he went to the hotel lounge bar and ordered a Pina Colada.

'You look like the cat who's eaten the pot of cream,' a voice said in his back.

Surprised, he jumped on his seat and turned to see Barbara Havers smiling at him. During a second or two he considered her, speechless. For the first time since they had met the day before, he realized she had a perfect smile and wonderful eyes. He didn't find her pretty, and she was making no attempt to improve her look - she wore no make-up and her evening dress was badly cut - but for a brief instant he felt he contemplated her soul and what he saw was beautiful.

'I'm sorry,' he finally replied, 'my conduct must seem inappropriate but I've received good news from my aunt.'

'Don't be sorry; life goes on.'

'Would Asherton mind if I offered you a drink?'

'I do what I want, and I'm parched. Do you think they serve beer or is it too vulgar?'

Five minutes later Barbara put down a half-emptied pint of beer.

'That draught's excellent. Tommy's missing something.'

'I'm surprised he's not with you.'

'He's with DI Stanhope. We were ready to come down for dinner when she knocked on our door. She wanted to talk to Tommy.'

'Why? Did she find anything?'

Pennyworth seemed alarmed. Barbara didn't make much of his reaction - having police officers around tends to make people nervous - but she registered it anyway.

'I don't know. Perhaps she has more questions for him. Or she just wants to discuss the case with another DI.'

'Another DI, yes. It seems I'll always forget Asherton and you are police officers.'

'Change may soon be in order,' Barbara replied for herself, but Pennyworth had good ears.

'What do you mean? Are you planning to leave the Met?'

'We may have no choice. But enough of bad thoughts for tonight. Tell me about South Africa. Make me dream.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'I wasn't Victoria's lover,' Tommy told Vera.

They were in his bedroom. Unlike Victoria's bedroom, it wasn't a suite and there wasn't a drawing room to accommodate a guest so Vera sat on the desk chair while Tommy had taken place on the bed. He'd poured them whisky from the mini-bar and they were slowly sipping their drinks while talking.

'It never happened? Not even a one-night stand?'

'Never. She was beautiful and I admit I could have been tempted but it never happened. Bad timing more than anything else I suppose. When I was free she wasn't around and when she was available I had someone else on my mind.'

'SOCO found used condoms in her room.'

'Good. You'll have the lover's DNA.'

'It seems you use the same trademark.'

'Ah.'

Vera tried to interpret that laconic answer. Tommy's tone was even. He didn't deny; he didn't protest of his good faith; he wasn't even upset by the innuendo.

'Maybe it's a coincidence.' Not that Vera usually believed in coincidences in a murder investigation but she was willing to offer Tommy the benefice of the doubt. She didn't expect his reaction, though. Without a word, he went to the other side of the bed, opened the drawer of the bedside table and took a wrapped condom. He handed it to her.

'I don't know what SOCO can make of this; I'm not sure they'd be able to tell if the condoms they found come from the same pack as this one but I guess it's worth a try. I don't usually use condoms but Barbara forgot her pills at home, so I bought a pack from the vending machine in the Gents on the ground floor. Maybe the guy you're looking for did the same.'

'He wasn't her regular lover then.'

'Maybe he got lucky. Or maybe Victoria forgot her pills too.'

 _But she didn't need her pill, she was pregnant. Why use condoms?_ Vera suddenly wished Joe Ashworth were there. She wanted to discuss the various hypothesis that were forming in her head and she couldn't do that with Lynley. As much as she liked him and couldn't think of him as a suspect, he was at least a witness and Victoria's pregnancy was a fact she wasn't ready to disclose yet.

'Tell me about the men of the Hastings Club. What's your opinion, as a DI? Do you think one of them could be the lover?'

Lynley didn't reply immediately. He passed each member in his head and evaluated the possibility of a liaison with Victoria.

'I see two possible candidates,' he finally said. 'One is Damian Hardling, Lady Isobel's husband. He's not upper class - he was the secretary of Isobel's father - and he's not personally rich but he's quite good-looking and has excellent manners.'

'Who's the other one?'

'Alistair Pennyworth. Excellent pedigree - he's a member of the club - but I cannot tell you about his wealth, I met him yesterday for the first time. Barbara finds him charming and attractive.'

'You don't share her view, I suppose.'

'I find him absolutely insufferable,' Tommy replied with a grin.

'So only two?'

'Three if you count me in.'

'Shall I?'

'Your guv' won't understand if you don't at this stage in your investigation. Victoria notoriously tried to seduce me, she was clearly still jealous of Barbara and you only have my word I didn't sleep with her.'

'I appreciate your honesty.'

'You wanted my opinion as a DI.'

Vera suddenly jumped on her feet.

'It's getting late and your Barbara must wonder what I'm doing to you. I'd better leave now.'

Back in her car, Vera looked at her watch. 8:25 pm. Still time to call Joe over at her place for a drink and a talk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The atmosphere of the dinner was tense. It had been a long day, rich in emotions and tension, and most of the guests were too tired to entertain the conversation. Those who did speak to their neighbours did so in low voice. The investigation was on everybody's mind but no one mentioned it out of respect for Lord Juniper's grief.

Clad in a black tuxedo, the old man was putting a brave face. Barbara, not his biggest fan, couldn't help feeling respect for the dignity he displayed. Before the dinner he had accepted her condolences with a sad smile and a "Thank you" that felt sincere. Her eyes left Juniper and fell on the woman sitting on his right, where Victoria would have seated if she were still alive. Lady Edwina…, no, Barbara corrected herself, Lady Morton-Meyers Tommy had instructed her to say, why she didn't remember, something to do with her being a dowager baroness… She would have to ask Tommy again. Etiquette and the correct way to name people with titles were very low on her list of things that would interest her to know, somewhere between the number of Big Ben towers that could fit in the distance between the Earth and the Moon or how long it would take to empty the Pacific Ocean with a tea spoon but one day or another she'll have to learn those stupid rules. Things were becoming rather serious with Tommy and he asked her more and more to be his "plus one" to the receptions he was invited to. She hated that: the outrageous display of wealth, the empty conversations, the women decorated like Christmas trees with their jewels, the men so full of themselves, eager to let everybody know how important they were and worst of all their "toffness", their contempt for the lower classes. Even here, even those who had welcomed her were like that. Juniper and Edwina, of course, but Cresswell too who insisted on equality but whose offshore accounts had just been discovered and Hardling who treated so badly the hotel staff and had obviously forgotten the time when he had to work to earn his living. Barbara wanted to send them all to hell, to tell them their truth and leave for good but she couldn't because of Tommy. She couldn't do that to him.

The dinner didn't last long, and as nobody was in the mood for a game most of the guests retreated to their bedrooms immediately after. Tommy and Barbara opted for a nightcap in the lounge. Comfortably installed in deep leather armchairs, Tommy briefed Barbara on his discussion with Vera.

'I can't say I liked Victoria but I admit she had nerves,' Barbara said in the end,' meeting her lover here with her husband sleeping in the adjoining room. Does Vera know who he is?'

'Not yet but he left his DNA on the scene.'

'I hate to say that but I'd put a tenner on Pennyworth.'

'I'd lean more towards Hardling. That would explain why they met in her room and not his.'

'Most women are more comfortable in their own bedroom.'

Lynley lifted a brow.

'Is that all your explanation? Because we're seldom in yours.'

'Whose fault? You're always complaining about my bed.'

'It's not a bed, it's a sofa.'

'It's a sofa bed and I sleep very well on it, thank you. And that statistics is not all my explanation. The main reason why I rule Hardling out is because of his wife. I overheard her during the dinner. She said she hoped she'd be able to sleep well despite that stressful day because she hadn't slept well the night before. She said she found the mattress too hard and didn't manage to sleep until four in the morning. She would have known if her husband had left their room.'

'Admitting she's not trying to cover him, we're back to Pennyworth.'

'And all the other men who have access to the hotel.'

'And that's quite a list.'

'I suppose there's no hope of us going back to London tomorrow?'

'I'm afraid no.'

'It's been an honour to work with you, Sir.'

'Barbara…' Tommy sighed.

'What? What do you expect? Ardery will jump at the occasion to get rid of me once and for all. She tried before and she renounced just because Weatherby sent an incredibly nice appraisal of our work in the Miller case to Hillier. After that she couldn't justify her decision to split the congratulated team.'

'Weatherby had reasons to be satisfied: we solved a murder, ended a drug ring, rescued a little girl and helped him get rid of an ineffectual sergeant. That's not bad for a dysfunctional team.'

'Yeah, but now we're breaking the internal policy of the Met. You're my direct supervisor. We're supposed to keep our distances, not jump into bed together at the first occasion.'

'I dare say I find your description of our relationship somewhat restrictive.'

'The fact is we're not supposed to be in a relationship of any sort.'

'But we are and I am not going to apologize or pretend I'm sorry I love you.'

'They won't let us work together.'

'Is that so important?'

'It's easy for you to say that, you weren't the one working with Stewart!'

'You know how important our collaboration is to me. You're the one I turn to test my theories, the one I turn to to discuss a case. I'm at my best only when you're around. I don't want to work with someone else but if I have to choose I'd rather live with you than work with you.'

'Maybe you won't even have that choice.'

'What do you mean?'

'Nothing tells us we'll both be able to stay in London. I could be transferred to the other side of the country for all I know. What would happen then?'

'Maybe it would be time to consider our next move.'

'Such as?'

'I could resign and join you in your exile.'

'How sweat,' Barbara replied ironically.

'Or we could both resign and go down to Cornwall to live at Howenstow.'

'All well and good for you but I'll have to earn my living. Would there be work for an ex-copper there?'

'Actually there's a full-time job I've been keeping for you since a while.'

'Really? What would that be? Game-keeper?'

'Lady of the estate.'

'…'

'Marry me, Barbara.'

'This is not funny.'

'I'm not joking.'

She looked into his eyes and she saw the depth of his love for her. It warmed her heart and scared her at the same time. Panic settled in; she wasn't ready to say "yes "or 'no'. She was thinking about an exit strategy when she couldn't suppress a yawn.

'Tired?' Tommy asked gently.

'I didn't have much sleep last night,' she answered with a lop-side smile.

'Come to bed, then. I promise I'll be a good boy and let you have all the sleep you want.'

The new pack of condoms he had bought when coming down to dinner was weighting sadly in his jacket pocket.

They left the bar and went for the stairs. As they passed the reception desk they heard some muffled sounds coming from the small room behind the desk. The door was slightly ajar and they saw Alistair Pennyworth in deep conversation with the young receptionist. Feeling observed he turned his head and saw them. He hastily said a few last words to the woman and left the room.

'Is there a problem?' Tommy asked.

'Ah, no, not really,' the young man answered, passing a nervous hand in his hair. 'It's just that my washbasin's blocked and I was asking if anyone could come and mend it but it seems it'll have to wait till tomorrow morning.'

'It's late, all the staff must be home by now.'

'Yes, you're right, that's what the night clerk has just told me. I don't know why I asked tonight, this is a nice hotel but it's not the Ritz.' He let out an embarrassed little laugh and changed subject: 'I think I'll have a nightcap. Do you want to join me?'

'Sorry, Barbara's tired, we're going to bed,' Tommy replied without giving time to Barbara to answer.

'Of course, it's been a long day. Goodnight then. See you tomorrow.'

The receptionist was back behind her desk, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink. As Tommy and Barbara bade her goodnight she replied without looking at them.

'Blocked washbasin?' Tommy asked to no one in particular as he lay in bed soon after.

'Mmmmm?'

Barbara poked her head from the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand, her mouth full of toothpaste.

'Nothing. I was just wondering about Pennyworth's excuse when we surprised him with the night clerk.'

Barbara rinsed her mouth, turned off the lights and joined him in bed. She cuddled against him, her head resting on his bare chest. Automatically Tommy put his arm around her.

'It looked more personal than a blocked washbasin,' he went on.

'Don't you never stop?'

'I'm sorry.'

'If they're having an affair it's none of our business.'

'You're right.'

They stayed in silence for a few seconds.

'She did turn crimson,' Tommy said.

'Yeah, she looked so embarrassed,' Barbara added laughing.

'If they were together last night he may have an alibi.'

'Tommy,' Barbara sighed, 'first, if he has an alibi, I'm sure he told Vera when she interviewed him, and second, you're not in charge of this investigation.'

'You're right, I'm sorry. Force of habit.'

'I know a sure means to distract your mind off this case.'

She caressed his chest and kissed him at the base of the neck triggering an immediate reaction in him.

'What happened to your wish of a long and peaceful night?'

'I changed my mind.'

'I'm glad you did.'


	6. Chapter 5

When Barbara woke up, Tommy wasn't by her side. Surprised, she strained her ears but no noise was coming from the bathroom. She got up and noticed a paper on the desk. 'Gone for a walk. Love you, Tommy'. She let out a sigh of relief and immediately felt stupid. Why had she imagined he had left her for good? She had absolutely no reason to think he wanted to break up with her – hadn't he just proposed? – still, she couldn't rid herself of the nagging feeling their relationship was too good to be true and that someday Tommy would break her heart. As it was nearly quarter past eight, she decided to get ready and go downstairs for breakfast; if, as she suspected, Tommy was touring the historic buildings of the island, who knew how long he would be out?

She was lacing up her shoes when he opened the door of the bedroom. She slowly raised her head, taking in first his wet and slightly muddy walkingshoes, then his brown corduroys, his green wax jacket, the round neckline of his jumper, his unshaven chin, his thin lips stretched into an amused smile, his straight nose, and finally his deep loving chestnut eyes.

'The last time I was subjected to such a thorough inspection was when my mother first saw me in my police uniform.'

'I think I never saw you in it.'

'Well, you're missing something,' he replied playfully.

'Maybe you could show me when we're back?'

'Only if you behave yourself.'

Tommy took off his shoes and jacket, and went to kiss her.

'Good morning, my love.'

'Morning.'

Barbara put her arms around his waist and held him tight. Tommy was a bit surprised by this demonstration of affection but he didn't say anything and simply enjoyed the moment.

'Did you enjoy your walk?' she asked him.

'Very much. I went to the priory and came back by the beach. I took a good breath of fresh air.'

'I didn't hear you go out.'

'You were sleeping so well I did my best not to wake you up.'

'Time for breakfast now, or maybe you already had it?'

'No, not yet and I'm famished. Nothing like a walk on the beach to give you an appetite. Just give me fifteen minutes to shave and have a shower before we go down.'

'I knew you were all bristly this morning! So you went outside unshaven and unwashed? I'm shocked!'

Tommy laughed.

'I had a shower at eleven yesterday evening and another one that started at two thirty and finished at around four fifteen because you insisted in helping me…'

'I had the impression you liked my help…'

'I did. I found it invaluable. The two times.'

He nuzzled her neck and she wriggled out of his arms, laughing.

'Go wash yourself, naughty boy! Chop chop!'

While Tommy was in the shower, Barbara turned the TV on to watch the news. The news bulletin was almost finished when the speaker announced the suspicious death of Lady Victoria Juniper on Holy Island and promised more details on the subject later. Barbara let out a swear word: the island would soon be swarming with journalists. She went to the window to check if they weren't already there; instead her eyes caught the flashing blue lights of a police car that was arriving at fast speed behind an old Land Rover and a SOCO van, and screeched to a halt in the hotel courtyard. Vera got out of the 4x4 and rushed into the hotel, with her sergeant, two uniforms and four forensics technicians in tow.

'Your friend's back!' Barbara yelled.

The door to the bathroom opened on Tommy, naked but for a towel around his hips. Barbara noticed he had lost weight and gained muscles. He had taken to rowing again and, to Barbara's delight, the impact on his body was showing very nicely.

'Sorry?' he asked.

'DI Stanhope's just arrived at full speed with her sergeant and four SOCO guys. There must have been some developments in the case last night.'

'I suppose we'll learn about them soon enough.'

Tommy came to the window where Barbara was looking outside again. He had removed the towel and was drying his hair with it. When she saw this Barbara quickly drew the curtains.

'Are you crazy? Walking around with a bare bottom?'

'And who's going to see me? The sea gulls?' Tommy replied, surprised by Barbara's reaction.

'The news of Victoria's death has reached the media: they talked about it in the news bulletin this morning. Soon this place will be full of journos, nosing around, asking questions and taking photos. I'm sure the tabloids would love to display your family jewels in close-up on their front page with a lewd caption.'

Tommy's face clouded over.

'I don't like that. I don't want Ardery to stumble across a photo of us before I have a chance to talk to her directly.'

'Do you really think it would make a difference?'

From her face Tommy knew she wasn't convinced.

'I do. I know it won't go smoothly but it'll be far worse if she discovers we're together in the morning papers. Which makes me think…' he stepped closer, took her in his arms and the musky scent of his aftershave lotion enveloped Barbara,' you didn't answer me yesterday evening. Will you make me the happiest …'

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Three loud knocks at the door.

'Go away!' Tommy shouted.

'Police!' came the answer.

'Are we so bloody intruding?' Tommy asked Barbara.

'No, you're too polite for that. We always let the witnesses choose the time and date of their convenience for our meeting,' she replied with an ironical smile. 'Now, go in the bathroom and put some clothes on.'

She went to the door while Tommy retreated towards the bathroom a spare of clothes in hand. Before going in he said:

'Don't think you're safe, my love. You've been saved by the bell this time but I'm not going to forget you owe me an answer.

She stuck out her tongue at him and opened the door. Tommy just managed to disappear in the bathroom before Joe Ashworth stepped into the bedroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the same moment, Vera was introduced into Lord Juniper's suite by his Indian servant. The room was like the one Victoria had occupied. Juniper was on the phone in the lounge, crisscrossing the room as he talked. Lady Morton-Meyers was quietly seated on one of the sofas, drinking a cup of tea. She politely smiled at Vera but did not offer her a seat; Vera sat on the opposite sofa nonetheless and made herself comfortable. She couldn't tell who Juniper was talking to but, for sure, he wasn't happy:

'This is not acceptable!' he fulminated. 'Don't forget who you're talking to, Barton! I made you and I can just as easily destroy you! Now if you're not willing to work for me, I think I'll have no trouble finding someone who will!' He hung up on that last threat.

'Lazy, ungrateful pen-pusher who thinks he can dictate his law to a Juniper!' he eructated as he put the phone back on its base.

'He's a notary, Randolph dear, what did you expect?' Lady Morton-Meyers asked calmly.

'More respect for a start! I knew his father when he was still a small assistant notary at an obscure notary office. I trusted him with my business affairs and he soon became his own boss. The Bartons owe me their wealth and fame; young Barton would be better inspired not to forget it! Sometimes I wonder if he's not hand in glove with Clarence.'

'I don't think Barton has any bad intentions, dear, he knows how difficult a time it is for you. I'm sure he only has your best interest in mind.'

'What do you, women, understand to business?' he retorted angrily. 'You're too soft-hearted.'

He seemed to finally realize Vera was in the room. 'What is it, inspector?' he asked icily. 'I'd like to be left alone; I've many things to organize.'

Vera's lips stretched into a smile but her eyes were cold.

'I'm happy to see that your bereavement has not deprived you of your energy,' she said.

'Now is not the time for the tears or the self-pity. As I told you many things need to be done now that my beloved Victoria's dead, starting with her funeral. Did you come to tell me I can have my wife's body back?'

'I'm afraid no; that's why I'm here today. But maybe you'd like a bit more privacy?' she glanced at Edwina stiff as a post.

'I've no secret for Lady Morton-Meyers,' Juniper replied, 'we've been friends for more than sixty years.'

'As you like.'

Juniper sat on the sofa next to Edwina who served him a cup of steaming tea.

'Forgive me, I forgot my manners. Do you want a cup, Detective Inspector?' she asked. 'It's a Darjeeling from Puttabong, harvested this summer.'

 _Indian tea_ , Vera thought, _what else?_

'Yes, please.'

She took her cup and added a large amount of milk and sugar under the disapproving look of the two connoisseurs. She took a sip and for the pleasure of annoying the two aristocrats pour a bit more milk in her tea; nobody was going to tell her how to drink her tea!

'Lord Randolph,' she finally started,' the post-mortem was carried out yesterday afternoon and I received the official report this morning. The conclusion is that your wife's death results from the ingestion of strychnine. Do you have any reason to think she might have taken this poison intentionally?'

'No!'

A cry from the heart.

Juniper had turned pale and for the first time since Vera had met him he looked his age.

'No, Victoria would have never killed herself,' he added with a trembling voice. 'She was happy. We were happy. I'm not stupid, inspector Stanhope, I know what people say about my marriage with Victoria: that she didn't love me, that she was only interested in my money. No, don't protest Edwina, I heard all this, sometimes in my own family, and honestly I can understand their skepticism. If one of my old friends had told me he was going to marry a woman fifty years his junior I would have called him a fool, but love exists, Inspector, and its arrow struck me in the heart. I took the risk to listen to my feelings and it rewarded me with this beautiful woman. Victoria wasn't suicidal, on the contrary she had many projects and was looking forward to fulfill them.'

'Did you know that she was pregnant?'

'Randolph?'

The surprise of Lady Morton-Meyers was obvious as she was looking at Juniper. He briefly squeezed her hand.

'Yes, I knew, Inspector. I'd never thought I'd be blessed with a child at my age, but Victoria was going to give me that gift.'

'Do you have children from your first wife, Lord Randolph?'

The old man frowned at her and asked icily:

'Don't you know that already, Inspector? What have you done since yesterday?'

'Many things I am not at liberty to tell you,' she replied on the same tone. With a smile, she added: 'I like to hear their stories from the people themselves.'

'This is a waste of time. All you had to do was open the Who's who and you would have found that I have a son, Clarence, and two grand-children: Randolph and Charlotte.'

'Which means your succession is secured.'

'For the next two generations at least. I'll die knowing the title and estate will remain the properties of a Juniper.'

'I couldn't help over-hearing your conversation on the phone. You seemed to complain about a Clarence. Would it be your son?'

'It'd be him. But don't get the wrong impression, Clarence is already my associate in the estate and in many of my businesses so that he'll be ready to take over when I'm no more. It's just that we also have our separate interests and I always encouraged a competitive spirit in him.'

A proud smile played on his lips: 'He's good at that game. I may rant at him from time to time but I'm proud of him.'

'Would Lady Victoria's child have modified the line of succession?'

'Absolutely not and Victoria never asked me to do such a thing. Why would I challenge the ancestral rule of the male primogeniture? Clarence is my first-born son, and he's also a grown-up man with many qualities. Why would I want to spoil him of his rights in favour of an unborn baby, who might have been a girl or who might have not displayed the same qualities as him?'

Vera took a sip of her tea and wished she could spice it up with whisky; the rest of the interview was going to be delicate.

'I must ask you very personal questions now, perhaps you'd rather talk to me alone.'

'I think we broached the subject already and I made my position clear.'

'As you wish. Did you go into your wife's bedroom the night she was killed?'

'No, I didn't. She went to bed complaining of migraine. She suffered from strong migraines and when it happened she didn't suffer the light nor the smallest noise. I certainly wasn't going to disturb her.'

'Do you know if your wife had a lover?'

'Inspector!' Lady Morton-Meyers was fuming. 'This is disgusting! How dare you ask such a question? How dare you sully Lady Victoria's reputation?'

'Lord Juniper?' Vera insisted.

'She did.'

The tone was neutral, the voice calm, showing no emotion.

'Randolph?' In a state of shock, Lady Morton-Meyers was looking at her friend, gaping. 'How…how…how…' she stammered.

'Edwina dear, do you really think an old man like me could satisfy a woman as young as Victoria? Of course, she had a lover. More than one, I guess. She needed her pleasure and, even if I'm greener than most men of my age, I couldn't satisfy her as often as she wanted. So, we reached this little agreement before our wedding: she could have all the men she wanted but she had to be discreet. Should the slightest rumour be heard about her infidelity, I would divorce her immediately.'

'Randolph…That was so kind of you,' Edwina mumbled.

'In that case how can you be sure the baby she was carrying was yours?' Vera asked.

'Because she told me so and I believed her. She took every precaution when she was meeting another man, out of fear of getting pregnant and out of fear of diseases.'

'There was a man in her bedroom on Friday night. Do you know who it was?'

Vera caught the eyes of Lady Morton-Meyers on her. The message they were carrying was obvious: 'I told you she wasn't ill.' But Juniper was already answering the question:

'I don't. That was also part of the agreement: I didn't want to know who she was meeting and when.'

'And you have no idea? Make an educated guess.'

'This is not a game, Inspector,' he replied, drily . 'I'm not going to point my finger at anyone just so you have somewhere to start.'

'We didn't wait for you to start,' Vera replied on the same tone,' but the sooner we talk to that man the better. He's probably the last person to have seen your wife alive. Don't you really have an idea? Could he be a member of Hastings club, or someone from the hotel staff?'

'The hotel staff!' The contempt in Juniper's voice was unmistakable. 'My wife was from an old aristocratic family and she was very conscious of her rank. Don't assume because she had needs just like everybody that she was a loose woman, ready to jump into bed with the first male who crossed her path. It would have been degrading, not to mention the risk of leak in the press.'

'The heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of,' Vera replied, half-joking.

'Nonsense. Victoria was her own master; her little games with men were totally under control.'

'Except with Lord Asherton,' Vera remarked,' her feelings betrayed her this time.'

'Asherton is an idiot,' Juniper said coldly. 'She offered him more than her nights, she offered him her life but he preferred to wallow in the mud with that woman of low birth. Victoria resented the affront but, luckily, we met soon afterwards and she forgot about him.'

'So it couldn't have been him with her?'

'Certainly not. Although it would have been a sweet revenge for her, letting him know what he missed.'

'And you, Lady Morton-Meyers? Any idea who it might have been?'

The old lady seemed shocked by the very idea.

'What makes you think I might know who her lover was?'

'It's just a question; no offense intended. A woman sometimes has a nose for this kind of things.'

'For gossip, you mean. Well, you'll know, Inspector, that I'm not that kind of woman. I mind my own business and let the others do as they please.'

'Well it was worth asking,' Vera smiled.

'There's one thing I can tell you though,' Edwina added, 'it wasn't Asherton. My bedroom is just above his and the soundproofing leaves much to be desired.'

'You heard him?'

'I heard her! Squeaking and squealing like a stuck pig. He may find this enjoyable but it was obscene and terribly embarrassing. Luckily, I always travel with my earplugs. I complained to the hotel manager but he said the hotel was full and he couldn't give me another room. I do hope you won't keep us here any longer, Inspector. This situation is horrible enough without having to endure their lust. They were at it again last night, in the middle of the night! Two concupiscent beasts, they are.'

 _Just two people in love,_ Vera thought.

'Lord Juniper, in your wife' s bedroom we found a vanity case with drugs inside. Did she take them regularly?'

'She always travelled with a box full of medicine but she didn't take them regularly. It was only as a precaution. She used to say one always falls ill in the middle of the night. Lately, she was prescribed some homeopathic drugs for her morning sickness in addition to the conventional treatment. I told her it was all charlatanism, only sugar balls, but still she insisted in taking them, five balls in the morning and five at bedtime. '

'Did anybody know about this?'

'She didn't make it a secret. She was rather enthusiastic about homeopathy, God knows why, and she never missed a chance to promote it.'

 _Could anyone have tampered with her medicine?_ Vera wondered. _This would mean the murderer was someone close enough to Victoria to put the poisoned drugs in her vanity case. Her husband? Her lover? A servant, maybe. Why not that Lady Morton-Meyers who seems so starry-eyed about Juniper?_

'A lab technician will come and take your fingerprints and a sample of your DNA, Lord Randolph. Yours too, Lady Morton-Meyers.'

'Is that a sinister joke, Inspector?' Juniper asked, brows frowned. 'Victoria was my wife. Should my fingerprints be found on some of her items, it won't mean anything.'

'It will help us to discriminate between the prints relevant to the case and the others,' Vera replied. 'If you want to find who the murderer of your wife is, as I assume you do, this is a good way to help us.'

Juniper thrust out his chin in anger as if to bite her:

'I don't like your tone, Inspector. I contacted the Metropolitan Police Commissioner, as I told you I would, and he promised me to get in touch with your superior to decide of the best way to help you. You see, I'm not sitting on my hands while you blow hot air asking silly questions and making disrespectful insinuation.'

Vera knew very well Juniper had been active: she'd been woken up this morning by a call from her superintendent, asking, or rather barking, what the hell was going on and why the Met was now involved. After much bargaining, he had finally given her twenty-four hours to ask as many questions as she wanted before sending all the guests of the hotel, and by that he meant more particularly the members of the Hastings club, back home.

So, before making a bad situation worse by speaking her mind and telling Juniper where he could put his help, she flashed him a big smile and bade her farewell.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'You want my fingerprints and a DNA sample?' asked a puzzled Tommy.

He had emerged from the bathroom fully clothed this time and was looking at Joe Ashworth in disbelief.

'We ask everyone in this hotel to provide them,' Joe replied icily. _If this little lord thought because he knew Vera he was going to be treated differently he was sorely mistaken._

'So you want mine too?' Barbara asked.

'Yes,' Joe replied with a softer tone.

This was the truth but he was particularly interested in Tommy's.

'Sergeant, all this is pointless,' Tommy started.

Barbara recognized immediately the condescending tone that came to him so easily when he thought an idea was ridiculous so she cut him - no need to be rude after all, the sergeant was just doing his job:

'We're police officers; you'll find our fingerprints and DNA in the police data-base,' she explained.

Joe's confidence wavered. She was right, of course, he should have thought about it. He had been so happy at the prospect of making Lord Pretty Face, as Billy Wainwright called Lynley, lower his haughtiness he hadn't thought that all the information he needed were already available. If ever Lynley told Vera about his little initiative he'd be the laughing stock of the whole station and her whipping boy for the years to come. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the lab technician who accompanied him and took out his little notebook:

'I've a few questions to ask you, if you don't mind.'

Tommy didn't reply but gestured to Joe to take the desk chair; he and Barbara sat on the bed.

'You told us you were in your bedroom the night Lady Victoria was killed,' Joe started, reading from his notes.

'That's correct,' Tommy answered, 'we went to bed at around eleven and didn't leave the bedroom before nine the morning after.'

'Can anyone confirm?'

'No, I don't think so,' Barbara replied.

'Er…Actually someone can. Partially at least.'

Barbara stared at Tommy; he looked slightly uneasy, which was a first.

'Saturday morning, when you were being interviewed, Blackwell, the hotel manager, took me apart and let me know that someone had complained we…er… had made too much noise.'

Barbara turned crimson.

'Who?'

'Lady Morton-Meyers. Apparently, she has the bedroom just above ours.'

'And she heard us?' Barbara was horrified.

'Which is good because she can testify we were in our bedroom,' Tommy tried to sound cheerful.

'Tommy,' her dark look told him she was angry,' you knew she could hear us and you, well, last night…'

Tommy thought she looked beautiful with her red cheeks, and her angry stare. He smiled tenderly.

'I'll never let anyone say I can't love you.'

Joe cleared his throat. They turned in his direction in unison; they looked surprised to see him there.

'Did you go inside Lady Victoria's bedroom at any time on Friday?'

'No, never,' Tommy answered.

'We weren't in the best of terms with her,' Barbara added. 'She looked like she could barely stand breathing the same air than us; she certainly wasn't going to invite us in her bedroom.'

'Do you know if she was taking medicines?'

'No, I don't but she complained of migraine in the evening so I suppose she took a pill,' Barbara answered.

Joe raised an eyebrow at Tommy who replied:

'No, I don't know. When she was still talking to me, she never mentioned any treatment.'

'Did you know she was pregnant?'

For the first time Joe noticed a crack in the perfect veneer of coolness of Lord Asherton: Tommy closed his eyes as if he'd been punched and he looked distraught.

Barbara took his hand and squeezed it gently.

'Tommy? Darling, are you alright?'

Lynley took a deep breath and looked at her.

'I'm fine. It's just…' he didn't finish his sentence; he put his arm around Barbara's shoulders, drew her close to him and kissed her hair. When he looked back at Joe, he had regained his composure.

'I'm sorry to hear this, Sergeant. Does Juniper know?'

'Inspector Stanhope is telling him at the moment.'

'Poor man,' Tommy whispered. He noticed the surprise in Joe's eyes and smiled lightly. 'I don't like him much, but I know what he's going through; I can relate to that.'

'And you?' Joe asked Barbara.

'Me? I didn't know she was pregnant and, frankly, I'd rather not think about it,' she pulled her face in disgust. 'The idea of what she had to do with Juniper is…argh…' she pretended to throw up.

'Babs!'

Tommy was looking at her sternly.

'Sorry, my love but, honestly!, it's disgusting. And don't tell me she loved him.'

'You can't presume of her feelings, Barbara.'

'They got married, what?, three months ago and she already cheated on him. Tell me what kind of loving wifey is doing that.'

Tommy shrugged and Barbara knew she had won the point.

'How do you know she cheated on him?' Joe asked.

'Tommy told me.'

'Who told you that?' Joe asked Tommy but he was afraid he knew the answer.

'DI Stanhope asked me yesterday evening if I was Victoria's lover.'

'And?'

'I wasn't.'

A stomach rumbled.

'Sorry,' Barbara said,' I didn't eat my breakfast yet.'

'I'm almost done,' Joe replied but before he could ask another question someone knocked on the door. 'Come in.'

'I'm afraid our bedroom is as busy as a train station,' Tommy said to Barbara.

'Yeah, and the walls have ears,' she replied icily.

He smiled sheepishly but she threw him a dark glance.

A lab technician opened the door. Behind him in the corridor stood the hotel manager. Blackwell was nervously wringing his hands. Joe got up and the technician whispered something in his ear. Joe's reaction was immediate; he rushed outside yelling orders:

'Go get Vera! We need to find that car and whoever took it!'

Barbara and Tommy looked at each other, puzzled.


	7. Chapter 6

The hotel manager's office was a small room located next to the kitchen. Behind the thin door of the office, Joe could hear the hustle and bustle reigning there: a mixture of metallic noises from the pans being manipulated, the knives' blades meeting the chopping board, the teeth-grinding scraping of the whisk in the bowl, and above all the voice of the chef barking orders to his team. Breakfast time was not over yet that lunch was being prepared in the hotel kitchen. The aroma of a roast came to Joe's nostrils, along with a whiff of garlic, and a sweeter scent, cinnamon perhaps, or was it nutmeg? Joe wasn't sure; he wasn't an expert on spices.

As he gestured Joe and Vera to take a seat, Blackwell sat behind a huge cherry wood desk and apologized profusely.

'I'm sorry for the noise but the kitchen never stops. I intend to move my office to the first floor but…'

'We're not here to hear about your plans for your decoration, Mr Blackwell,' Vera cut him sternly. 'We're here because you failed to mention a car was missing from your garage.'

'I…I didn't know,' Blackwell tried to explain but his weak protests were immediately swept aside by Vera.

'My sergeant, here, tells me you noticed the car was missing yesterday. Yesterday, Mr Blackwell! Why did you wait so long? Are you covering someone?'

'No!' Blackwell cried out in a choked voice.

He was sweating profusely. He dabbed nervously the beads of sweat on his forehead and on his upper lips but they were immediately replaced by new ones. It was not the first time Joe was seeing someone turn to jelly under the dark glaze of Vera but Blackwell was literally liquefying.

'Yesterday, I didn't think it was strange; we always have people arriving or leaving the hotel; the number of cars in the garage is never the same. But this morning, Tim, it's our valet, told me the car hadn't come back for the night.'

'When did he tell you?'

'When…' Blackwell looked uneasy, 'when I arrived this morning.'

'What time was that?' Vera asked, looking at him suspiciously.

'About seven o'clock,' he mumbled sheepishly.

Vera slammed her hand on the desk, making Blackwell jump.

'Seven o'clock!' she roared. 'And you didn't phone us! You simply waited here, till we arrive! What if we hadn't come this morning?'

'I…I would have called you.'

'Sounds like withholding of information to me,' Vera told Joe, who concurred.

'To me too.'

'No, no, no,' protested Blackwell. Big damp patches of sweat were staining his shirt near the armpits.

'Should we take him to the police station?' Joe asked Vera, as if he were paying no attention to the hotel manager.

Blackwell was looking desperately at Vera but she pretended not to see him.

'Let's do that, he may be more talkative there. Charlie told me some journalists have arrived at the station to cover the case: the BBC, ITV,… You're going to be famous, Mr Blackwell.'

'No, no, no,' pleaded Blackwell as Joe got up. 'Please, this will be the end of my hotel! Please! I'll tell you what I know. You'll see it's not much.'

Vera sighed heavily and seemed to weigh up the pros and cons. Finally, she said:

'Sit down, Joe. There are good people here whom I don't want to see losing their jobs. And I don't mean you, Mr Blackwell.'

'Thank you, thank you,' Blackwell replied nonetheless.

'Now, tell me, whose car's missing?'

'Lord Juniper's.'

'LORD JUNIPER'S!' Vera roared again. She pinched the root of her nose and breathed deeply. 'I'll stay calm.'

When she looked back at Blackwell her eyes were as cold as ice and her voice as sharp as a knife:

'And you didn't think we needed to know that Juniper's car was missing the morning after his wife was killed? For you, it wasn't important to let us know?'

'I thought the chauffeur had taken it to wash it. When they arrived on Friday the causeway was wet, the car got some sea salt on and...'

'And you're an idiot!' concluded Vera. 'Who's Juniper's chauffeur?'

'I don't know. Some Indian guy. I don't know his name.'

'Joe, did we talk to him yesterday?'

'No; I think he wasn't even mentioned.'

'Because he doesn't stay at the hotel,' Blackwell added precipitously. 'We had no room left for him. I think he found an accommodation on the island though because he left the car in our garage.'

'What sort of car?' asked Joe.

'A silver Rolls-Royce Phantom. The extended one.'

'Should be easy to spot, eh Joe?' Vera smiled at her sergeant.

Joe took his mobile phone out of his pocket and left the room.

'Do you live here, Mr Blackwell?'

'I've a small cottage on the other side of the island,' he replied cautiously, as if fearing Vera might ask him to go and visit his house.

'So you weren't here the night Lady Juniper was killed?'

'No. I was at home. My wife can testify to that.'

'No need to,' Vera smiled. 'Did you meet all the members of the Hastings club?'

'Yes, I did. Such prestigious guests, I made it a point of honour in welcoming them personally.'

'Do they come here often?'

'No, it was the first time. And the last, I suppose.' he added with a weary voice.

'A good hotel manager like you should know who his customers are, no? What they like, what they don't like.'

'Of course. We must know our guests' tastes to anticipate their wishes and offer them the best experience possible during their stay.'

Vera thought he sounded like a TV ad.

'So what can you tell me about them? And forget about your good education, I want to know who they are, not who they want us to believe they are.'

Blackwell looked at her with a bit of apprehension but she smiled at him and he started:

'Lord Juniper and Lady Morton-Meyers have conservative tastes. They're a bit old-school, if I may say.'

'The Indian butler and chauffeur…'

'Exactly. They didn't notice we lost the Empire. They are demanding but polite and respectful of the staff.'

'Lady Juniper?'

'She was different, not the same generation, you see, more modern tastes.'

'That's all?' Vera insisted, sensing Blackwell was not telling her everything. 'I had the impression she could be rather vindictive.'

'One doesn't speak ill of the dead,' Blackwell replied.

'I never heard one of them complain. But maybe you'll be more at ease at the police station?'

'This is blackmail,' Blackwell protested, 'but alright, no more political cant, I'll tell you what you want to know.'

He got up and opened the door of the library behind him to reveal a decanter and a set of glasses. He poured himself a glass and asked:

'Do you want a glass of sherry, Detective Inspector?'

'Never on duty.'

 _And certainly not cherry, sweet._

Blackwell sat back heavily, took a sip, then dabbed his lips with his handkerchief before continuing.

'Where were we? Ah, yes, I remember. Lady Victoria. She was young, very beautiful, and extremely rich thanks to her marriage. She had her husband under her thumb, and he's quite a character though, but madly in love with his wife. He gave in to her every whim.'

'How did she behave here?'

'As if the hotel belonged to her. This is not a criticism, hear me well. The way she paid attention to every details, the way she welcomed the members of the club as they arrived, the way she behaved with them and with the staff, you would have thought she was the lady in her manor.'

'You resented it?'

'Not at all. We strive to make our guests feel at home.'

'So why did you tell me you didn't want to speak ill of her?'

Blackwell sighed heavily.

'Because everything changed when Lord Asherton arrived. She threw a fit when she saw his friend. I think she was horribly jealous and jealousy makes women ugly. As you said she was vindictive and mean.'

'How did Lord Asherton react?'

Vera hated herself for that question but she had to ask.

'He was a paragon of class. It showed he resented her attitude but he didn't make a fuss; neither did Miss Havers who is not a Lady but showed more class and restraint than Lady Juniper on that occasion.'

'Lady Juniper was very beautiful. Did you notice if anyone was susceptible to her charms?'

'She was the sort of woman who drew men's attention, that's for sure. She seemed to get on well with Mr Pennyworth but I'm sure with no hidden motive. Mr Pennyworth is the kind of gentleman who likes the company of ladies. Yesterday evening he was at the bar with Miss Havers who, between us, is not a beauty.'

 _Maybe she isn't but he wouldn't be the first man to prefer her over the stunning Victoria_ , Vera thought.

'And apart from Pennyworth?'

'I cannot tell. I'm running this hotel; I don't spend my days spying on my guests.'

Vera had some doubts about that but didn't react. Instead she asked:

'Did you see her with the chauffeur?'

'Very briefly when they arrived. He opened the car's door and she thanked him. That was all.'

'You said she didn't like Miss Havers. Was there anyone she didn't like or avoided?'

'Well, she seemed a bit distant with Lady Morton-Meyers. It was probably just a matter of age difference.'

 _Or she sensed the old harridan didn't like her either._

'Anyone else?'

'No.'

Blackwell finished his glass of sherry. The alcohol had put some colour back on his cheeks and he seemed more confident than at the beginning of the interview.

'Really, Detective Inspector, I'm doing my best to help you. I hope our little misunderstanding of earlier is forgotten.'

'I think I can let you attend to your business for now,' she replied as she got up but as Blackwell started to relax she added: 'But I never forget a thing, love. It's a habit that comes from the job.'

Outside she found Joe who was talking on his phone. Soon he hung up and briefed her.

'The chauffeur's name is Arun Sivajothi, 30, single. Born in Lewisham. He's been working for Juniper for eight years. No record, not even a parking fine. He lives on Juniper's estate. Currently staying at Mrs Studd's bed and breakfast.'

Vera chuckled.

'Studd? Is that a hint he was Victoria's lover?'

'Studd with two D's,' Joe sternly replied.

'Cold fish,' Vera mumbled. 'Did you talk to Juniper?'

'Yes, he didn't know Sivajothi and the car were missing. Some trips were planned as part of the club's meeting but a small coach had been booked. Juniper had given his chauffeur his Saturday off. He was supposed to come back here today before lunch.'

'So technically he's not missing yet.'

'He's not at Mrs Studd's in any case. I phoned her and she told me he had left in the middle of the night between Friday and Saturday. He said there had been an unexpected change in the schedule. He paid for the two nights though so Mrs Studd just assumed his posh bosses had changed their minds.'

'Except they hadn't. Mrs Studd didn't connect the dots when she heard Lady Juniper was dead?'

'She didn't know the names of his employers. She didn't make the connection.'

Vera pouted her lips, sceptical.

'Studd, Blackwell…Amazing how the people here are unfazed by a customer's sudden leave or a missing car in their garage.'

'They mind their own business.'

'Well, that's unfortunate because my business is finding a murderer! I want a research warrant on Arun and one on the car. Warn the train stations, the airports and the ferry terminals. We need to find him.'

'He's twenty-four hours ahead of us.'

'Then why are you keeping still, dumb boy?' she yelled at him.

Her mobile phone rang before Joe could object. Seeing Joe was still in front of her, Vera dismissed him with a wave of the hand before taking the call:

'Yes, Holly?'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the breakfast room, Tommy and Barbara were talking over their full English breakfasts. Barbara was still a bit angry after Tommy.

'I still can't believe it you didn't tell me about Morton-Meyers,' she whispered while emptying the ketchup bottle in her plate.

'I'm sorry, my love, but it wouldn't have changed anything; the harm was done.'

Tommy winced when she started to angrily chop her sausages to pieces. She pinned a piece of sausage on her fork, dipped it into the ketchup and brandished it under Tommy's nose. He wondered if it was a not-too-subtle threat to his virility.

'For Friday night, I agree but not for yesterday!'

'Had I told you, what would you have done?'

'Nothing, I would have done nothing and we would have had a good night's sleep.'

'It would have been a shame.'

There were sparkles in his eyes and the corners of his mouth were slightly trembling as if he was trying not to smile. Despite her best efforts, Barbara couldn't help smiling back and they both ended up laughing.

'You know the worst part of it?' she asked when they stopped. 'They're all going to think I debauched you when the truth is you've always been a naughty boy.'

'Who's a naughty boy?' a male voice asked. 'You, Tommy?'

'Hello, Cresswell. According to my girlfriend, yes, I am.'

'I used to like naughty boys but then I found Richard.'

'How long have you been together?' Barbara asked.

'Officially, twenty-two years; almost three decades in truth but it took me some time to convince him to leave his wife. Coming out was even harder then than it is now. But enough about me. I just wanted to tell you that the police are looking for Juniper's chauffeur, Arun, who apparently has been missing since the night Vickie was killed. I expect they'll let us go home shortly now they've a suspect.'

'The chauffeur? I thought it was always the butler…'Barbara quipped.

'He's only missing; he has not confessed to the murder yet. For all we know he could be another victim,' Tommy replied sternly.

'Don't say such a thing, Asherton, that's horrible.'

'I'm sorry, Cresswell, but we cannot jump to conclusions. I agree his absence is suspicious but that doesn't mean we're all in the clear.'

'Is he always such a killjoy?' Cresswell asked Barbara.

'Meet DI Lynley from New Scotland Yard.'

Cresswell jokingly pulled a face.

'He must be a severe boss.'

'He's a good boss. And I don't say that because I sleep with him.'

Cresswell laughed.

'I believe you. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to spread the news to our fellow members.'

'I understand your caution, Tommy, but that Arun looks like a serious suspect,' Barbara said after Cresswell had left.

'I agree but I didn't want Cresswell to put in everybody's head that we're leaving Holy Island today.'

'Would be nice, though…'Barbara replied dreamily.

'Very nice, indeed. If Vera gave us the green light before tonight, we could be at work tomorrow morning and Ardery would be none the wiser.'

'Sparing us a lot of trouble.'

Tommy didn't reply. He was looking over Barbara's shoulder at something or someone in the garden. Barbara turned on her chair and followed his gaze. Lord Juniper and Lady Morton-Meyers were walking side by side, their heads close to each other as they talked.

'They make a better matched couple than Juniper did with Victoria,' she said. 'Do you know if they ever were an item?'

'Their friendship goes back ages, that's for sure, but I don't know if they ever were more than friends.'

'She's in love with him,' Barbara stated.

'Really?' Tommy sounded amused. 'How did you come to that conclusion, Sergeant? Did Edwina confide in you?'

'She didn't need to. I know how unrequited love looks. I saw her look at him when he was with Victoria. I looked the same when you were with Helen.'

She saw the pain in his eyes and immediately wished she hadn't said that. Beneath his icy exterior, he was highly sensitive and easily hurt. He reached out for her hand over the table.

'I'm so sorry, Barbara.'

'Don't be. Helen and I were never rivals. You were in love with her before I realized you were not that aristocratic ponce I thought you were and I never challenged your feelings. You were my friend, and you were happy, and that was all I wanted.'

'I love you.' He squeezed her hand. 'You know that, don't you?'

She squeezed his hand in return and smiled at him.

'Of course, I do. You even love me a bit too much according to that dear Edwina.'

'I beg to differ; I'll never love you enough.'

Their eyes met.

'You know what I'm thinking?' asked Barbara.

'You want to go back to our bedroom and have wild sex while Edwina cannot hear us.'

'No, I don't.'

'Too bad. I'm going to have a refill of scrambled eggs to forget my disappointment.'

'Take a couple of rashers of bacon for me when you're at it.'

After Tommy came back with his eggs and the perfectly crispy rashers for Barbara, she explained her idea.

'We're focusing on Victoria's lover but what about Edwina? Imagine her feelings last year. She's in love with Juniper. They're both widowed, nothing prevents her from becoming the new Lady Juniper. Suddenly, enters Victoria, her twenty-eight years, and her stunning beauty, crushing Edwina's hopes. But Vickie dies leaving Edwina free to offer her shoulder for the bereaved husband to cry on.'

'He opens his eyes,' Tommy went on, 'realizes she's the one he needs, the one he's been in love with for years and they live happily ever after.'

'Yes!' Barbara said enthusiastically.

'No,' he replied calmly.

'I hate it when you do that,' Barbara hissed.

'I'm sorry but that sounds rather far-fetched. Why didn't she tell him she loved him before he was married? Why wait for the marriage to happen and then kill the bride?'

'Because she thought he would be happy with Victoria but then she found out the wifey wasn't truthful.'

The idea had suddenly come to Barbara's mind and as she detailed it to Tommy she grew more and more convinced she was right:

'She discovered that Victoria cheated on her husband. Perhaps she even found out that Victoria had planned to meet her lover here, right under Juniper's nose. Edwina can't stand that she humiliates Juniper like that. She waits for the lover to leave Victoria's bedroom, knocks on the door, Victoria recognizes her, opens the door and Edwina kills her.'

She thought her reasoning made perfect sense, however, after years of working with him she could see that Tommy wasn't convinced.

'Vickie was young and athletic; Edwina's an old frail lady,' he objected.

'Frail? I don't think she's frail, Tommy. She's old, yes, but not frail. And she had the benefit of surprise. Besides we don't know how Victoria died. You don't need much strength to kill someone with the right weapon.'

'We'd need the PM report to know how Vickie was killed.'

'Or a tip from your friend Vera?'

'She's not that kind of copper. Unless it could be useful…for her.'

'How did you meet?'

'Briefly at a conference years ago and later we cooperated on a case. That was one or two years before you and I started to work together.'

'And she's really good?'

'One of the best but she has a style some find difficult to bear.'

'Like me, actually.'

'Yes, a bit like you but I love you more.'

The French windows leading to the garden opened and a gust of cold air entered the breakfast room. Lord Juniper and Lady Morton-Meyers came in quickly followed by flashing lights and the sound of many voices.

'The pack has been sent,' Juniper said. 'Those damned journalists have arrived.'


	8. Chapter 7

Author's note: In this chapter I make some referenced to Helen Lynley that those of you who know her from the TV series may find strange. It's because in the books Helen is a very nice character, who gets along well with Barbara and does not hesitate to defend her when there's a conflict between Barbara and Tommy. What they made of her in the TV series is a disgrace.

* * *

The arrival of the journalists changed everything. They started the siege of the hotel and it became impossible to venture outside without being pressed by questions or blinded by the flash of the cameras. Seeing that Lord Juniper wasn't going to talk to them, they made do with just about anyone who would come in or out of the hotel: the maids, the kitchen staff, even the postman but soon they feared their audience would grow tired of seeing always the same faces so they began to interview the islanders or the occasional tourist in every corner of the island. The members of the Hastings club were advised by the police not to talk to the press so they shut themselves away in the hotel, all curtains drawn. Years later when anyone mentioned Holy Island in front of her, Barbara had a bout of claustrophobia. The forced confinement soon got on everybody's nerves and the ambiance deteriorated. News that Juniper's chauffeur was missing had spread rapidly and the wildest rumours were now circulating among the hotel residents. In one of them, he had raped and killed Victoria; in another he was secretly in love with Victoria and didn't bear to see her with another man so he killed her, but gripped by guilt he had left the island in the middle of the night and killed himself. In the most tragic one, he was Victoria's lover and had intended to kill Lord Randolph by poisoning some of his pills but Victoria, unaware of the plot, had taken the tainted drug by accident. There were many different stories but all had in common that Arun Sivajothi had killed Lady Victoria Juniper so why did the police insist nobody left the hotel? Being police officers themselves, Tommy and Barbara were often asked that question, as if their colleagues from Northumberland Police kept them informed of everything that was going on. At the beginning, they answered politely, explaining that Sivajothi wasn't more suspect than them, that nothing proved his culpability and that it was easier for the police to keep everyone in the same place in case they needed to talk to one of them again but their explanations didn't convince anybody. When a visibly intoxicated Damian Hardling angrily took it out on Barbara, insulting her, accusing her of siding with the police and not telling them the truth, things got heated between Tommy and him to the point where Barbara and Alistair Pennyworth had to separate the two men.

Half-dragging, half-pushing him Barbara managed to take Tommy back to their bedroom. He was still fuming at Hardling but Barbara wasn't happy with him either. She locked the door behind them and faced him:

'What did you intend to do, Tommy? Punch him?', she asked, her displeasure clear in her voice.

'Why not? That would have put him back into his place.'

'Oh? And where's his place?'

'Away from you! He had no right to accuse you and nothing could excuse his attitude.'

'I've seen worst.'

'He called you "bitch" and "whore!'

Barbara winced but put up a brave face.

'I've been called worse.'

'Not in my presence.'

'He was pissed; he'll regret his words when he's sober, if he can remember them, that is.'

'I'll make sure he remembers, Barbara, and I can tell you he's going to regret each and every word.'

A cold fury radiated from Tommy. She had already seen him angry but never so vindictive; she feared the worst for Hardling. He was an arrogant, stupid bastard who drank too much but she suspected Tommy had more causes to be angry that one or two filthy words.

'Tommy, don't you think you're over-reacting? Hardling needs to have his mouth washed with soap, not incur the full wrath of Lord Asherton. You nearly lost it downstairs.'

She put her hand on his cheek - his skin was hot and sweaty - and forced him to look at her.

'My sweet love. What's going on?'

She hoped her contact would calm him, it usually did, but not this time. He pushed his head away from her hand.

'I'm tired of people criticizing you!' he cried, 'I'm tired of people denigrating you! I'm tired of them belittling you, insulting you, treating you like you were some sort of non-sentient being! I hate it – HATE IT! – when it comes from someone from the so-called upper class but from Hardling… How dares he criticize our love? He was no one before his wedding, and he isn't much more after despite what he wants us to believe. He married way above his class; he was just an obscure pen-pusher who worked for Isobel's father. He needs to be reminded that he's just an upstart.'

 _An upstart…_

The word hurt Barbara.

'That's what I'll be if I marry you, Tommy,' she said sadly. 'I'll never be Lady Asherton. Forever I'll be the working-class girl from Acton you married to forget Helen.'

'No.'

He went to take her hands but she moved away from him.

'Yes. You know I'm right. People will always wonder why you married me…'

'Because I love you.'

'We're so different...'

'We're complementary.'

'You're so handsome; I'm plain on my best days…'

'No, you're beautiful.'

'You shine in company while I shrivel like an old apple, incapable of uttering three intelligible words.'

Her voice was shaking and she was fighting back her tears. Tommy's anger had vanished replaced by an intense fear. He knew what Barbara was going to say next and he had to stop her before she said the words that would destroy all his hopes of a happy life.

'Barbara, I was raised for that. Everything my parents taught me, everything I learnt at school aimed at making me capable of behaving not too badly in society. I'd had years of training before I was thrown into the swamp with the crocodiles. No wonder I can swim. Coming here was a mistake, I see it now. You were not ready. It doesn't mean you'll never be, just that it was too early. I wanted to come here to see the castle and I wanted you to come with me because I can't stand the idea of spending two days far from you but I didn't think about how you would feel amongst the other members of the club; I thought only about me. It was egoistical and I'm so sorry. I love you, Barbara.'

'I love you too,' she replied in a cracked voice.

He opened his arms and she threw herself into them. He wrapped his arms around her; she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating and she focused on the rhythmic sound. His heartbeat was strong and fast but as they stayed embraced his pulse slowed down appeasing Barbara.

'Never say you're not good enough for me again, Barbara.'

His voice was just a whisper but his tone was unmistakable: it was an order not a plea.

'You and I, sometimes I think it is too good to be true, that life is going to play a dirty trick on me and it scares me. I love you so much, Tommy, it'll kill me when you tire of me.'

'I'll never tire of you. You always find a way to surprise me. Good or bad.'

She gently poked him in the ribs and he laughed. He crooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head so he could look into her eyes.

'You're all I need, Barbara, all I want to find in a woman. I'm not trying to forget Helen; I'll never forget her and I'm sure you wouldn't want a man who can so easily draw a line on a woman he loved and with whom he was going to have a child. But I've changed, I'm not the man who fell in love with her anymore. What I loved in her was her ability to read my mood, even on the phone, and lighten it with just a few words. She was funny and supportive; she feigned carefreeness but she cared a lot and…I wasn't there for her.'

'Tommy!'

'No, it's true. I loved her madly, but I wasn't there for her. She always supported me, she always tried to lift my mood and I took all this for granted. I resented it when she sided with you or Simon or anyone else against me. She was my wife, she was supposed to support me, see? She took care of me, she always tried to ease my life and I never thanked her for that. I see things differently now. I want to take care of you as much as you take care of me. Love should go both ways and I know I can count on you to remember me of that if needed. You're not the daughter of an earl, you didn't go to posh schools but you're more my equal than Helen ever was. I know from experience you don't always agree with me, or say yes to everything I propose. You make your voice heard and if you don't agree with me you tell me in no uncertain terms. That's what I like, Barbara, that's why I love you.'

Barbara was on the verge of tears. The memory of Helen had been her biggest fear, that Tommy could one day compare her to his late wife and see how poorly she stood the comparison, so knowing that he had already compared them and that he loved her anyway, that he loved what made her _different_ from Helen was an immense relief. They stayed embraced in silence for a while before a slightly anxious Tommy spoke:

'You're not saying anything, Barbara. Tell me what you think.'

She looked at him and smiled wickedly:

'I was thinking that if you proposed to make love right now I wouldn't say no.'

A broad smile lit up his face.

'Come to bed.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Barbara woke up from her nap fully rested. She was lying on her belly, one of Tommy's arms around her waist. She felt fine; some spots were a bit sore maybe but after two days of intense love making that had to be expected. She smiled; they were behaving like two horny teenagers on their first time away from their parents not like two adults in a long-term relationship. It had been a much welcome break from the frenzy of their lives in London. Because of the cuts in the police budget the Met had to make do with fewer officers, which meant the remaining ones were weighted down by work. During the last week alone, Tommy and she had closed a case and been affected to a new one on top of the three they were already working on. Often the long hours left them so exhausted they headed straight to bed once they were home, to sleep not to make love as they didn't have the energy for that. And as much as she liked sleeping cuddled up against Tommy, making love was far more enjoyable. Finally, his idea of resigning wasn't as crazy as it sounded; if only it didn't mean for her having to be a countess full-time. She knew how Tommy's mother filled her days and she couldn't imagine herself doing the same. Not that the dowager countess of Asherton was inactive, on the contrary, but Barbara had no taste for tennis, gardening, social events, and charities. She opened her eyes to look at Tommy. He was sleeping soundly. He looked relax, the furrows tiredness had drawn on his face were gone save from a few very fine lines at the corner of his eyes.

'What would you say if I told you I'm seriously pondering becoming a countess, my love?' she whispered.

For all answer, Tommy rolled onto his back and started snoring lightly.

'You're hopeless,' she sighed.

Tommy wasn't going to wake anytime soon and she didn't feel like staying in bed. Having a walk on the beach was impossible without braving the hoard of journalists but the hotel indoor swimming pool would be a nice alternative. She got up, put on her swimsuit and bathrobe, and left the bedroom.

The swimming pool was on the ground floor. One accessed it through a double door that opened in the reception area. Its picture windows opened on the back of the hotel with a sea view and, from there, a cobbled path led you to the beach but today the windows were locked and the blinds were drawn to block any access for the journalists. The swimming pool itself was a rectangle about 15 meters long by 5 meters wide. Its depth varied from 75 centimeters to 2 meters to accommodate all sorts of swimmers and a Jacuzzi occupied one of its corners. A paddling pool for the babies completed the facilities. The place was desert except for a lonely swimmer, a woman judging from her old rose bathing cap. Barbara left her bathrobe and towel on one of the deckchairs that stood by the pool and went into the water. The water was perfectly heated and not too chlorinated. Barbara did several lengths alternating between crawl and back stroke until a small but persistent discomfort in her right shoulder convinced her to try the Jacuzzi instead. The woman in the bathing cap was already there but there was far enough space for two persons. As she got closer Barbara realized that the bathing cap was crowning the head of Lady Edwina Morton-Meyers. Her first reaction was to think that perhaps she could swim a bit longer until the old lady left the place but on second thought she had just like her the right to use the Jacuzzi. Besides the baroness seemed lost in her thoughts and wasn't paying attention to her.

Barbara sat as far away as possible from her and closed her eyes. In turn she presented every part of her body to the massage of powerful water jets, letting an involuntary moan escape her lips when the jet hit her strained shoulder.

'Is your shoulder painful?'

Barbara opened her eyes to find Edwina's cold blue eyes fixed on her.

'Oh, er, yeah, a bit. I don't swim often, maybe I should have done less lengths.'

'You're a good swimmer but you should have taken the time to warm up and stretch before you dived into the water.'

Barbara was ill at ease; she knew Edwina didn't like her so why do that small talk? Was there a trap somewhere?

 _Or maybe the hot water has softened the stick she has up her rump._

She decided to be nice and polite as would befit a countess.

'Yes, probably. I'm sure it's nothing, it will pass in no time.'

'I use an arnica gel in such a case; it makes wonder. Perhaps you should give it a try.'

'I'll do, thanks. Are you an expert on herbal medicine?'

'My father was a keen herbalist and chemist; I inherited his passion.'

'Did you practice?'

Edwina chuckled as if it were a joke.

'No, I married my husband just after university.'

Barbara hid her contempt by putting her head under the powerful overhead jet that was supposed to massage the neck: getting married had never prevented any women in her family to work.

'I heard there's been a bit of a fuss between Hardling and Lord Asherton.'

 _Ah, things are becoming more serious._

'Just some angry words. We're all edgy after what happened and the forced confinement isn't helping.'

'That's very kind of you to put it that way but no need to handle me with kids glove: Hardling's a drunkard and a moron. You're as stuck here as us even if you're police officers.'

'Unfortunately, not everyone shares your point of view. They see police officers and think we close ranks whatever the circumstances.'

'Birds of a feather…'

'Exactly. But we've no special treatment. I'd rather be in London than stuck here but it is as it is. One doesn't always make as one wishes.'

'That is so true. I long to be back home in Warwickshire myself but I can't leave Randolph alone for the moment, at least not until all this frenzy around the death of our dear Victoria calms down.'

'You and Lord Juniper are …good friends.'

She had almost said 'old friends' but she wasn't sure how Edwina would take the adjective.

'You can say that. I've known Randolph all my life. I was sixteen years old when we met for the first time at a ball. He was seventeen and already a perfect gentleman.'

A dreamy smile appeared on Edwina's lips, softening her face.

 _I was right, she loves him,_ Barbara thought.

'We discovered we had the same tastes and we became friends. I met my husband thanks to him, he was a friend of his from university. Our families were close; they still are. Randolph was a great support when my husband died; the least I can do is do the same for him now.'

'I'm sure he'll appreciate. He must be going through a terrible time; knowing he has a friend near him would help him.'

 _Unless he's like Tommy after Helen's death and shuns all the people who care about him to lick his wounds alone._

'Have you known Lady Victoria for long?', Barbara asked.

Edwina stiffened.

'We met occasionally when she went with her uncle, Lord Rupert Worthington, to receptions but I only got to really know her after she and Randolph got engaged.'

'You must have been surprised when they got engaged.'

'I was happy for Randolph,' Edwina replied but her cold dry tone said otherwise.

'Of course, he's your friend, you wanted him to be happy.'

Barbara changed position to offer her back to the jet, then added:

'Was he, happy?'

But Edwina answered with a question:

'Were you happy for Asherton when he married Lady Helen?'

Barbara took the time to think about her feelings at that time.

'Yes, I was,' she answered finally. 'He was so in love with her, and I've seen him so miserable when she didn't return his feelings at first, I was happy for him when he told me they were going to get married. Helen loved him; she made him happy. That was all I wanted for him: to be happy.'

'I'm not sure Randolph had such luck with Victoria.'

'He seemed to love her very much.'

'Oh, without any doubt but the more I learn about _her_ , the less I'm convinced it was mutual. What I learnt this morning, what I saw…'

 _Saw?_

'What did you see? When?'

Edwina didn't answer so Barbara insisted.

'If you saw anything you must tell Inspector Stanhope.'

'It was nothing of interest.'

Edwina got up and headed for the stairs, Barbara on her heels.

'Lady Morton-Meyers, you don't know if it was nothing. Please talk to Inspector Stanhope or to Sergeant Ashworth if you prefer. They have to know. Maybe it's important.'

'I told you, it's not. The police have their suspect, Randolph's chauffeur. What I saw doesn't concern them, it's private.'

'Please…'

'Enough! I don't know how your lot handles private matters but you'll learn that _we_ don't discuss them with anyone.'

Edwina had her bathrobe on and was heading towards the exit of the swimming pool.

'You could be charged with obstruction!' Barbara cried after her.

Edwina cast her a cold venomous look.

'Perhaps Hardling wasn't wrong after all. I feel sorry for Dorothy.'

'She likes me!' Barbara shouted but the doors had already closed on Lady Morton-Meyers.

Cursing and swearing at Edwina and at herself, Barbara took her towel and dried herself. Behind her back she heard the door to the swimming pool open and someone go inside.

'I'm on my way out, the place's all yours,' she said without turning.

'Pity I didn't bring my swimming suit with me. Can we have a word, pet?'


	9. Chapter 8

They sat on two deck chairs. Or rather Barbara sat and Vera stretched her legs out on the chair. She leant against the back of the chair and closed her eyes for a minute. Barbara wondered if she was going to fall asleep there but she took the opportunity to have a better look at the inspector: fiftyish, short and tubby, an unattractive face, she was quaintly dressed in a flowery dress and a threadbare cardigan. At her feet on the chair, she had left her old raincoat, an older green waxed hat and a pair of sandals. To Barbara's surprise the inspector was barefoot when she couldn't imagine going out without her sneakers and a thick pair of woollen socks. Tommy had said that Vera was brilliant and one could trust him on that point but Barbara couldn't help imagining what Detective Superintendent Ardery would say about her sartorial tastes.

 _She'd probably keep her hidden, working on menial tasks until she gets herself a better wardrobe, no matter how brilliant she is._

All of a sudden, Vera giggled. She opened her eyes and grinned at Barbara.

'I must be quite a sight for you who are accustomed to Tommy's extreme elegance.'

'I don't judge on appearances. When I'm fully clothed I look more like you than like your prim sergeant.'

Vera laughed.

'Joe? It's a trick. Some people prefer to speak to a neat and tidy, good-looking police officer than to a crumpled old lady like me; it reassures them, something about respectability I was told.'

'Stupid people, I guess, Tommy told me you're brilliant.'

'Did he?'

Vera looked pleased.

 _She likes to be flattered_ , Barbara thought. _Another difference with Tommy._

'I'm sure you're good at your job too,' Vera said, still smiling. 'How long have you and Tommy…' she waved her hand in the air.

'Eight years.'

'Eight years? Starts to make a bit of time. So it was before he got married.'

'It was strictly professional!' Barbara protested. 'We started dating only last year.'

'Oh, yes, of course, pet. I wasn't implying that you…No.'

Barbara eyed Vera suspiciously; she wasn't convinced she was sincere. What came next reinforced her suspicion.

'But he's quite the bonny lad, our Tommy. I bet all female officers fancy him. Can't be easy to see all their eyes on him. I'd be dead jealous if I were you.'

'You're not me; I trust him completely.'

'And rightly so I was told: he chose you over Lady Victoria.'

'He didn't love her. He saw clear in her game.'

'Which was?'

'She wanted to land herself a rich titled husband.'

'I reckon you didn't like her.'

'You reckon right.'

Despite her most caring smile and tone Vera couldn't get past Barbara's defences. The woman was tough and guarded; her short answers didn't give much about her. She was making no mystery of what she thought of Lady Victoria but all this was public knowledge.

'Did you know she would be here this week-end?'

'No, I didn't.'

'Had you known, would you have come?'

Almost imperceptibly Barbara thrust out her chest and she replied defiantly:

'Yes, I'd have come. Tommy and I were looking forward to this weekend: him because he wanted to have a look at the ancient monuments and me because I wanted to spend some quality time with him. I wouldn't have let Victoria rob me of a romantic weekend with my boyfriend.'

 _No, you're certainly not the kind of woman who shy away from a fight_ , Vera thought.

'How did she react when she saw you?'

'True to form; she pretended I didn't exist.'

'And with Tommy?'

' _He_ pretended she didn't exist.'

Vera chuckled.

'Must have displeased her Ladyship, no? I've been told she liked being the centre of attention.'

'The centre of _male_ attention, yes.'

'Were you jealous?'

'Me?' Barbara almost chocked on the word. 'Nah. I may not be the sexiest thing on two legs but when I go to bed at night I lie down next to a gorgeous man not a desiccated mummy.'

'She had her lover to keep her warm at night.'

'Good for her; I still prefer Tommy. But I must admit, when Tommy told me she had met her lover here in her bedroom, I thought she had nerves. Do you know who he is?'

'Not yet, our forensics specialists are still working on it.'

'As slow as ours, then. Tommy's quite good at breathing down their neck to make them speed up, I can lend him to you if you want.'

'I'm rather good at that myself,' Vera replied with a ferocious smile.

'I bet you are.'

Their eyes met and they laughed. Suddenly, the suspicion between them was gone, they had acknowledged each other as being the same kind of woman and police officer.

'Tell me, lovely, I saw Lady Morton-Meyers rush out of here. What was the matter?'

'Honestly, I don't know. She acted out of character, doing a bit of small talk with me whereas usually she looks at me the way she would look at something sticky and smelly she's just walked on. Two things however may interest you: first, she's in love with Lord Juniper and she didn't like Victoria, and second, she saw something but refused to tell me more. She said it was private so either she saw Juniper and Victoria argue or she saw Victoria's lover. In any case, you need to talk to her.'

'She's next on my list. Now tell me, have you any idea who that lover could be?'

'We discussed it with Tommy yesterday and we thought that it could be Alistair Pennyworth but, of course, it was before we learnt the chauffeur was missing.'

'Why Pennyworth?'

'He's young, good-looking, and he has an excellent pedigree apparently. Incredibly enough he can bear Juniper's old-fashioned colonialist ways so he spent Friday evening in the company of the Junipers and Lady Morton-Meyers. I noticed he was seated next to Victoria during the dinner and they talked a lot.'

'Did you know him before this week-end?'

'No, I didn't know anyone except Victoria. And Tommy, obviously.'

'You knew the victim?'

'We met once, briefly, and it was more than enough for me. She was mean, arrogant, and heartless.'

'Did you argue then?'

'Didn't have that pleasure. She pulled a dirty trick on me on the sly but Tommy found out before me and he was so furious he threw her and her uncle out of his house in Cornwall. I think she was the kind of woman who plays nice but stabs you in the back.'

'And you?'

Vera had a good idea of what the answer might be. She wasn't disappointed.

'I'd look at you in the eyes and punch you on the nose. Which I shouldn't probably be telling you if Victoria died that way.'

'You know I cannot tell you.'

Barbara sighed and tightened the bathrobe around her. Vera noticed it.

'Are you cold? I'm keeping you here while you probably want to go back to your room and have a hot shower.'

'Yes, that'd be nice.'

With a bit of luck Tommy would be awake. The conversations with Edwina and now the inspector had darkened her mood. She wanted to run and take refuge between the strong arms of the man she loved.

Vera got up and patted her on the knee.

'I've good news for you, then. I've no more reason to hold you back here. You can all go back home.'

'Really?' Barbara was surprised. 'You think the chauffeur's your man, then?'

Vera twisted her mouth.

'My _guv_ thinks the chauffeur's his man. Juniper pulled one or two strings and I've been asked to release you all immediately.'

 _I won't even have the extra 24 hours the DSI told me I had._

'But you're not convinced,' Barbara insisted.

'I'd like to talk to that chauffeur, that's for sure, but so far we have nothing to link him to the murder. But that's not your concern, DS Havers,' Vera smiled, 'that's the concern of _my_ sergeant.'

Vera pulled her hat down over her ears and took her raincoat and shoes.

'We may meet again, pet.'

Barbara got up and started collecting her things. Then she remembered something.

'Inspector Stanhope!' she cried.

Vera stopped and Barbara trotted towards her.

'I almost forgot: Edwina seems to be a keen chemist and herbalist like her father was. I don't see how it can help you in any way though.'

Vera thought about all the pill boxes that were in Victoria's bedroom and how easy it would have been to administer her the strychnine by mixing it with her usual drugs.

'On the contrary; that's extremely interesting.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Barbara was humming a happy tune when she opened the door to her bedroom: in less than an hour they could have checked out of the hotel and be on their way back to London, and tomorrow they'd be at work as if nothing had happened, but as soon as she came in, she knew something was wrong. Tommy was still in bed, leant against the bedhead. When he turned his head in her direction she saw that deep furrows had appeared across his forehead. Barbara was worried instantly. She sat on the bed and put one hand on his bare chest.

'What's the matter, Tommy? I've seen inspector Stanhope, we're free to go back to London immediately.'

He sadly smiled at her.

'It's too late, darling, Ardery knows everything.'

'How?' she asked then she noticed the mobile phone in his hand. 'You called her?'

'No, she called me. Woke me up and yelled at me.'

'How did she know?'

'Apparently Juniper doesn't believe in Vera's capability and he decided to have the Met involved. He called the Met Commissioner who called Hillier who called Ardery...'

'Who rang you.'

Tommy nodded.

'How much does she know?'

'I told you, everything.'

'You and I being stuck in a hotel on Holy Island where we share the same bedroom?'

'Yes. She assumed or pretended to assume it was a one-off, that it was just for the sex.'

'Well, sex did play an important part during this weekend,' she said softly.

'To my greatest pleasure, darling, but she made it sound sordid. I told her it wasn't a fling, that we've been together since last May, and that I'm in love with you.'

'You do know the words to please her.'

He cupped her head in his hand and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb.

'She wants to see me in her office as soon as we're back in London.'

'Did she mention me?'

'No, but as I'm your superior officer I'm supposed to take, and I will take, full responsibility for all this.'

'I'm as responsible as you, Tommy! I wanted this as much as you did. I'm not going to let you face Ardery's fury alone.'

'Darling, please. I appreciate your support but she said she wanted to talk to me so if you come with me it will only make things worse. Don't worry, she won't bite my head off.'

'She'll probably try.'

Tommy laughed and kissed Barbara on the tip of her nose.

'Nothing she will say will make me regret this week-end.'

Barbara chew her lower lip.

'What?' Tommy rubbed her back beneath the fabric of the bathrobe.

'Nothing.'

'Barbara...'

'It's just that I'd like to share your point of view.'

Tommy froze and looked at her sternly.

'And what do you regret exactly? This week-end or loving me?' he asked icily.

'None of that! Don't be so touchy. I love you, you great halfwit, you'd better get used to the idea.'

She planted a big smack on his lips. Tommy drew her to him:

'I love you too.'

'Glad we clarified this point but now I need a hot shower.'

She jumped on her feet and took off her bathrobe.

'Did you enjoy the swimming-pool at least?' Tommy asked.

'I did but something, at the same time interesting and rather strange, happened I'd like to tell you about after.'

'I can come with you in the bathroom, you'll tell me while you shower.'

'Cheeky monkey… Perhaps you could start packing up our things instead. Now we're free to go, I don't want to spend any more time here than strictly needed.'

'No need to hurry, it's not like an hour or two would change the trouble we're in.'

'Save your strength for tomorrow; you're going to need it to face Ardery.'

Tommy pulled a face.

'I could do with some encouragement.'

'Oh, sorry. My heart goes out to you, my love.'

She disappeared in the bathroom just as Tommy was throwing his pillow at her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Did you find anything in Victoria's pill boxes?'

'Pills.'

'Don't play that game with me, Billy, I'm not in the mood,' Vera replied sharply. 'All my suspects will soon be scattered all over the country and I'm not talking about the one who's already missing and could well be abroad already.'

'Look, we didn't have time yet…'

'WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?' she yelled in the phone. 'You want me to come and give you a hand perhaps?'

 _Good Lord, no, you'd probably just slap me,_ the pathologist thought.

'Vera, it's only been 24 hours; these tests take time and…'

'How long?' she barked.

'You're really in a foul mood. Young Ashworth did something wrong? Or was it Lord Pretty Face?'

'None of them but there's a pathologist who thinks we have all the time in the world to solve this case. Well, we haven't, Billy. New Scotland Yard is getting involved right now and I don't want any know-it-all southerner to solve this case instead of me.'

'They're involving the Yard to investigate on two of its officers?'

'I already put forward that argument but I've been told Lynley and Havers are not our main suspects.'

 _Which is true, I don't even think they have anything to do with this_ , Vera added for herself.

'Can't you put more people on the analyses?'

She heard Billy smile on the phone.

'Vera, you can put nine women in parallel, you won't have a baby in one month.'

She guffawed loudly.

'You know from experience, don't you, Billy man?'

The pathologist grunted but Vera didn't care.

'So I repeat my question, how long before all the analyses are finished?'

'24 hours.'

Vera sighed heavily to make her disappointment clear.

'Have you some results on the DNA analyses at least?'

'We're not completely done but we have the results for several men already. All negative; we don't have a match'.

'So who was _not_ young Vickie's lover?'

'Let me get the file…'

Vera drummed on her phone case impatiently.

'Can't you find that bloody file ?!' she yelled after a few seconds.

'Your voice is like siren song to me, Vera darling.'

'Less sweet talk and more action, Billy. The names?'

'She definitely didn't have sex with her husband that night, or with Hardling, or…'

Vera could hear Wainwright turn the pages in his folder.

'…Cresswell…'

'He's gay!'

'I analyse the samples I receive, Vera. And last one, Lynley.'

Vera thought she heard a bit of disappointment in the pathologist's voice.

'You never told me why you don't like him, Billy.'

'I've nothing against him!' he protested.

'Come on. Did he steal one of your conquests?'

'Hardly a feat! I don't drive a luxury car and I have to earn my living!'

'Don't forget his good-looks…' Vera added. She couldn't help teasing the pathologist.

'I guess he's all right…'

'All right? All right is what Joe Ashworth is; Lynley's mind-blowing.'

'Don't tell me you fancy him too!'

'Me? Nah, but I have eyes. Don't worry, I never dreamt of becoming a countess.'

'How's she?' Billy grumbled.

'Who?'

'His latest crush.'

'Havers? A bit like a younger version of me.'

'Poor sod.'

 _The worst is that he meant it_ , Vera thought as she hung up on Wainwright.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour later Tommy and Barbara were waiting for their taxi in the lobby when Alistair Pennyworth joined them.

'That's it, you're leaving?'

'Yes, we've just checked out,' Barbara answered. 'We're waiting for the taxi.'

'You came here by train?'

'No, by plane.'

'I didn't know there was a regular flight to here.'

'Actually, we didn't take a commercial flight; Tommy has a pilot licence.'

'Really? Must be practical.'

'It has some advantages,' Tommy replied with a smile.

'You'll be back at work tomorrow?'

'One has to earn one's crust; not all of us can lead a life of leisure,' Barbara answered, earning herself a black look from Tommy which she ignored. 'That being said I'd never have thought Inspector Stanhope would let us go back home today.'

'She had no choice,' Pennyworth said. He leaned towards Barbara and went on sotto voce: 'Old Juniper used his connections in the police force. He pulled some strings in the highest spheres, pointed out that, as the chauffeur was now the main suspect, Stanhope had no reason to keep us here.'

'How do you know that?' Tommy asked.

'Oh, Juniper bragged about it in front of me. He was very happy of the mean trick he had played to the inspector. He doesn't trust her to find Victoria's killer and he asked for New Scotland Yard to get involved and to take the lead in the investigation. Perhaps you'll work on it!'

'Impossible; we're witnesses, just like you,' Tommy replied. 'Juniper is wrong not to trust DI Stanhope, she's brilliant.'

'It's not the impression she gives. I can more easily imagine her selling the Big Issue.'

'Don't go by her look, Pennyworth. She's clever and her rustic exterior hides a sharp and shrewd mind. Not a few criminals underestimated her who are now kicking themselves over it in their cells. She doesn't need anyone to tell her how to find Vickie's killer and I very much doubt she'll be pleased to see a team from the Met on her turf, especially if they are under Juniper's heel.'

'Oh, I'm sure she'll make them toe the line,' Pennyworth said, 'and if she's as good a cop as you say so much the better; I want the murderer caught as much as you. But I think your taxi has arrived.'

Indeed, a young bellboy was coming to fetch their luggage to put them in the boot of the taxi. Tommy shook Pennyworth's hand and followed the boy.

'Barbara, wait!' Pennyworth called out as Barbara fell in behind Tommy. He drew a card from the inner pocket of his jacket, rapidly scribbled down something on it, and handed it to Barbara. 'Please, have my card. It's not up to date yet but my mobile number is the same and I wrote my aunt's address on it. If you ever find yourself nearby, I'd be happy to see you again.'

Barbara considered the card with surprise then took it, smiling broadly.

'I'd be happy to see you again too.'

'Barbara!' Tommy called out from the courtyard. 'Are you coming?'

'I'm on my way!' she yelled back. She turned towards Pennyworth and sighed:' That man! Always in a hurry.'

'You should keep him hanging about from time to time so that he realizes how lucky he is to have you.'

Barbara laughed.

'That's a good idea! I shall remember it.'

She held out her hand to shake him good-bye but he took it and bent over it.

'I thought one only kissed the hand of married women,' she said, surprised.

Pennyworth smiled mischievously.

'You and I are not the kind of people afraid to bend the etiquette, are we?'

'Eti-what? How do you spell that?'

They laughed.

'I really must dash,' Barbara finally said. 'See you soon then.'

'Goodbye, dear Barbara.'

He watched as she joined Tommy and dived into the taxi. He wondered why he had given her his card. He had acted on impulse and wasn't sure he wouldn't regret it. After all, she was a Detective Sergeant and he wasn't too keen on having police officers around.

'You're a real ladykiller, Mr. Pennyworth, if I may say so.'

He turned around quickly. Leant against a wall, Vera Stanhope was smiling. Pennyworth found her smile a bit too ferocious for his taste.

'Can you spare me a few minutes?'


	10. Chapter 9

Author's note: A chapter smaller than usual but you might like the ending. Thanks a lot to all of you who find the time to write your own stories _**and**_ to review the chapters I post (you know who you are). I don't know how you manage to do that (if I read I don't write and vice versa...) but you keep me going.

* * *

Vera considered the young man in front of her. If being interviewed by two police officers made him feel ill at ease he was not showing it. In a light green suit, he looked relaxed and affable; the opposite of Joe Ashworth whose tension she could feel without even looking at him. She liked Joe, he was a good boy and a decent copper but he needed to stiffen his back. He was too easily intimidated by educated or upper class people so she kept roughing him up to force him to build more self-confidence. And also, because she liked that.

'So tell me, pet, how should I call you? Sir? Your Lordship?'

Pennyworth laughed.

'Nothing of that sort for me, Inspector.'

'No title? Really? After all those earls, and baronesses, that's a change.'

'I'm glad this pleases you. I'm the offspring of a disowned man. My great-aunt holds the family title; she's a viscountess. I might inherit the title when the dear old woman dies but that's far from certain, and in any case until then 'pet' is probably the best name you can call me.'

'You're not from Great Britain, are you?'

'I'm from South Africa, as I'm sure you already know, but I've a dual nationality. I came here for my convalescence.'

'You were feeling home-sick?'

'Hardly, it's my first time in the old country but I needed a bit of support and my aunt generously offered to welcome me.'

'That's very kind of her. When did you arrive?'

 _As if you didn't already know_ , Alistair thought. He answered nonetheless in his most charming voice:

'Just before Christmas.'

'It was the first time you came to a Hastings club meeting then.'

'Yes, and it's a first time I'm not going to forget.'

'Was Lady Juniper one of your acquaintances?'

'I can't say I've any acquaintances in this country yet. I met Lord and Lady Juniper for the first time on Friday afternoon when I arrived at the hotel.'

'She was your age; I suppose you two got along well.'

'Yes, we did but don't go imagining things, Inspector, I get along well with almost everybody. My father said I had no backbone but I like to think I can see the best in everyone.'

'Just like me!' Vera exclaimed. 'One mustn't think because I'm a detective I find everything and everyone suspicious. See, someone saw you creeping out of Lady Victoria's bedroom on Friday night and my sergeant here thinks you were up to no good, especially since you didn't mention this when we first talked to you, but I told him that there must be a perfectly logical explanation.' Vera smiled. 'So, Mr Pennyworth, what's your explanation?'

The surprise took Alistair's breath away; he hadn't expected so much shrewdness from the scruffy inspector, but then he remembered Lynley's advice:' Don't underestimate her.' He quickly regained his composure and weighing his options in a split second opted for the truth:

'A little bird told you that, Inspector? No, let me guess, a jealous, embittered, old baroness did. I should have known Edwina would be peering through the peephole of her door at the faintest sound in the corridor in the hope of catching Victoria in a compromising situation.'

'So you don't deny your going to Lady Victoria's bedroom.'

'That's incorrect. What I don't deny is having gone to Victoria's suite of rooms but I never reached her bedroom. I didn't get further than the first meter beyond the door of the suite to be precise.'

'When was that exactly?' Vera asked.

'At about quarter to midnight. We talked briefly but she said she was tired and wanted to go to sleep so I left her.'

'You must have been disappointed,' Vera commented with a smile.

'What do you mean?'

'Come on, pet, we've an eyewitness, remember? You turned up on Lady V's doorstep with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. You certainly expected more than a few words in the doorway.'

Pennyworth sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.

'What can I tell you? I was wrong, it's as simple as that.'

'What made you think she might be interested?' Joe asked. 'She had gone to bed complaining of migraine, she was a newlywed woman, her husband was sleeping in the adjoining bedroom, and nevertheless you bring her champagne and expect to sleep with her?'

'I took a chance. I thought she had sent me some…signals…she wanted my company that night.'

'What sort of signals? When?' Vera asked, regaining some interest in the conversation.

'At dinner. Subtle signs, really, the brushing of my leg under the table, her hand resting on mine a tad too long. But as I said I probably imagined all those things.'

'But they didn't surprise you?'

'With all due modesty, I'm a favourite with women and Juniper's old; I doubted he could satisfy the needs of his young wife.'

'Was Victoria alone when you saw her?'

'The living-room was dimly lit but I'm positive there was no one there.'

'Did she seem nervous or anxious?'

'No, she was calm. She only wanted me to leave her alone.'

'Could you see her bedroom from where you were?'

'Her bedroom? No. Why? You think someone was hiding there? Her killer?'

'Or a guest she didn't want you to see. Why didn't you tell us all this when we talked to you yesterday?'

'A man has his pride, Inspector. I imagined things and ended up a fool; I had no wish to let anyone know. Victoria was alive and well when I left her; I've nothing to do with her death, you must believe me.'

'All right. That'd be all, for this time. Joe, you will have someone take Mr Pennyworth's new statement before he leaves the hotel.'

Vera got up with difficulty and headed for the door. Before she left the room however she turned towards Pennyworth:

'One last thing. What did you do with that bottle of bubbly? You gave it to Lady V.?'

'No, I brought it back with me. Not very chivalrous but I needed to drown my sorrows.'

Vera smiled.

'And you drowned them alone?'

'You really are nosey! No, not alone. With the night clerk.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'So what have we got so far?' Vera asked her team in the evening.

They were all gathered in their open-plan office around the white board on which the main points of the investigation were pinned.

Holly was the first to speak:

'I've checked Lady Victoria's personal bank account but I didn't see anything suspicious. She had around £147,000 on it and I didn't see any strange deposit or withdrawal in the last three months.'

'She didn't work; where did the money come from?' Joe asked.

'From her husband mainly: he transferred her a nice sum on the first of each month, and then she received dividends from various shares she had. Her expenses were mainly of the sort you would expect from that kind of woman: designer clothes, beauty care, luxury items.'

'Nothing interesting then; and what about her love life?' Vera asked.

'Well, she seemed to have had a lot of fun before her marriage, she had several boyfriends, all rich and powerful, but most of the people I talked to thought she had settled down after her wedding.'

' _Most_ people?'

'You know how it is, people say they don't want to speak ill of the dead…'

'…but they do it anyway,' Vera cut in.

'Some were not convinced she was faithful to her husband but didn't have any proof to support their allegations. It was only a gut feeling.'

'Or their jealousy speaking,' Joe said.

Vera threw him a dark glance before coming back to Holly.

'And did their guts have an idea who her lover was?'

'No, they didn't.'

'Or they wouldn't say!' Vera shouted suddenly.

'That was to be expected,' Joe said,' they close ranks; they won't tell the police even if they know something.'

'Or they're afraid of Juniper's reaction if he heard them gossiping about his wife's infidelities.'

'He sure isn't a man you want to mess with.'

'What's that supposed to mean, Joe?' Vera thundered. 'You're afraid of him? You'd be more inspired to be afraid of me! What do we know about the man anyway?'

Charlie took out his notebook and began to read:

'Randolph Charles Joseph Juniper, ninth earl of the name, born and raised at Claptom House, the family estate in Essex, except for the time he spent studying at Eton and Cambridge. Spends his time now between the estate and his town house in London. One grown-up son from his previous marriage; his wife died ten years ago, ovarian cancer. He's a business man. He owns plenty of land, several manors he turned into luxury hotels, a racing stable which produced several champions. He has stakes in several companies in the property business and in finance. He's filthy rich, used to play polo with the Prince of Wales, and is on the best terms with several Tory politicians including our current PM.'

'No skeleton in the closet?'

'He has the reputation of being a very tough businessman who shows no feeling or remorse but he's also said to be honest and I didn't find any trace of wrongdoing.'

'Thank you, Charlie. Holly, you didn't say about Victoria's phone records.'

'I haven't received them yet. The operator told me I should have them tomorrow.'

'First thing in the morning then. Charlie, I'll need the gen on Lady Edwina Morton-Meyers. She may have known how to tamper with the victim's pills.'

Vera took a red marker and turned to the whiteboard. 'Now, thanks to Mr Alistair Pennyworth and Lady Morton-Meyers we know Lady V. was alive at quarter to midnight. What we don't know was if she was alone in her bedroom or not. As to the identity of her lover, Billy cleared Hardling, Cresswell and Lynley so far. If the night clerk confirms she spent the rest of the night with Pennyworth, that'd be four names we could erase from our list.'

With her pen she drew a big interrogation mark next to the chauffeur's.

'So back to Mr Sivajothi. Have we any information as to his whereabouts?'

'Not yet,' Joe answered. 'Colleagues from Essex searched his room at the estate but they found nothing of interest. He has a cousin in Exeter who claims he doesn't know where he is. We keep an eye on him, just in case Sivajothi tries to contact him. He also has a brother who lives in Sweden, a wildlife photographer, but I didn't manage to contact him. Apparently he's doing a shooting north of the polar circle.'

'All this leaves me cold. And the car? Someone would surely notice a silver Rolls-Royce.'

'No such luck for the moment but if he has any sense he has already dumped it. Too showy.'

'Then find where he's dumped it! I shouldn't have to tell you how to do your job, Joe.'

'Oh, right, I so needed you to tell me we need that bloody car,' Joe snapped back.

Vera looked like she was going to reply but she changed her mind and dismissed the team.

'It's late, go home and have a good night's sleep.'

The team didn't move.

'What?' Vera asked. 'I'm not going to pay you overtime so off you go!'

'Is it true that New Scotland Yard is taking charge of the investigation?' Charlie asked.

'They will _help_ us,' Vera answered, emphasizing the verb,' but we'll still be in charge, Charlie. We're going to teach these greenhorns how we work up North!'

Cheers and applause ensued.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Joe Ashworth switched off his computer and took his jacket off the back of his chair. As usual he was the last one to leave. The kids would probably be in bed when he arrives home. He noticed the light was still on in Vera's office. He poked his head around the door. She was reading a file.

'You're not going home?'

She grumbled some unintelligible words and waved him away. He came in and sat on the chair on the other side of her desk.

'It's the case that's bothering you?'

She threw the file on her desk where several others were scattered. Pointing at each one in turn she enumerated:

'Essex. Cambridgeshire. Devon. Warwickshire. Even Cornwall! And I'm only talking about the main residences of these Lordships! Then there are the townhouses in London, the houses in the country, the hunting lodges, not to mention various homes and luxury flats abroad. It's going to be a full-time job just to keep track of all the persons involved.'

'You can assign someone from the Yard to it.'

Vera smiled.

'That's an idea; one less on our back.'

'Do you think they're coming to spy on us?' Joe asked, suddenly serious.

'Spy on us?'

'Juniper had them sent here.'

'They will surely be under a lot of pressure from their hierarchy to bring results quickly but so are we. We're all in the same boat, Joe.'

'How well do you know Lynley?'

'Tommy? What's he got to do with this?'

'Nothing, just wondering…perhaps he could tell you what he thinks of our new colleagues.'

'Launching a counter-intelligence operation, are we, Joe?'

'No,' he protested. 'See it as a way to enhance our cooperation with New Scotland Yard, they work with us, we work with them, we share information, isn't that what we're supposed to do?'

'Clever lad. Now go home or your wife is going to kill me. Lynley's probably trying to find a way to save his partnership with his beloved sergeant at that time. I'll call him tomorrow.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Actually DI Thomas Lynley was trying to find a way to open Barbara's new sofa bed.

'Oh, for God's sake, Barbara, get that thing open or I swear I'll make love to you up against that wall!'

'You're too old for that and I do like some comfort.'

'First I'm not too old; second, if you like your comfort then why aren't we in Belgravia?'

'I told you I wanted to go home tonight. Not my fault if you became all horny.'

'Not your fault!'

'Well, yeah, probably a bit.'

He frowned at her over the sofa.

'OK, a lot. Now, pull that part. No, not this one, that one, and…Watch out!'

'OUCH!'

The bed had opened suddenly, crushing Tommy's finger between two metal rods.

'Get some cold water on it!' Barbara said but Tommy was already rushing towards the sink.

The cold water brought some relief but Tommy had the feeling his heart was beating at the tip of his finger.

'Damn it! I'm sure I'm going to lose my nail.'

'Do you think your finger's broken?' Barbara asked.

Slowly Tommy bended his finger, then he carefully felt it.

'Doesn't seem so. But it's throbbing. Why the heck did you change your sofa bed anyway?'

'The other one was too old; it was breaking my back.'

'And the new one is after my fingers. Why don't you move in with me for good? You hardly come here anymore. I was serious when I proposed to you. I want you to be my wife, Barbara.'

'Don't move. Keep your finger under the water.'

'You could sell your house.'

'I don't want to sell it!'

'All right, you could rent it then.'

'I like my independence.'

'Is that your way of telling me you don't want to marry me?'

'No! But…'

'But what?'

'I don't want you to marry me because you feel guilty I'm going to lose my job.'

'You're not going to lose your job!'

'Maybe not, but we both know that's the end of "Lynley and Havers".'

'No, we don't, and I didn't propose because of the uncertainties over our jobs, Barbara. I love you. I love you so much I want to spend the rest of my life with you…'

'Keep your finger under the water!'

'I don't care about my finger! Barbara,' he took her hands in his,' I want to wake up next to you every day until the last one, I want to have children with you and raise them with you, I want to grow old with you. I don't care about the rest; I don't need it. But I need you. Totally, passionately.'

'I'm scared.'

'I know.'

'Are you scared too?'

'No, I'm not. My mind's made up. I know what I want and I want to be with you.'

'I want that too, Tommy.'

'Dare I hope that's a 'yes'?'

'That's a 'yes' if you promise you'll never ask me again to go with you to a Hastings club meeting.'

'Whatever you want, my love.'

'So, yes.'

Tommy took her in his arms and spun her around.

Kissing, laughing, they fell on the bed.


	11. Chapter 10

Author's note: Sorry for the longer-than-usual wait. Author's block happened. It seems all sorted now – crossing my fingers.

* * *

When she arrived at work the following morning, Barbara felt like she was a freak. Although she didn't want to sink into paranoia she couldn't ignore that all the eyes were fixed on her. Conversations dried up as she passed by to resume once she had turned her back. As she crossed the open-plan office to go to her desk, all her moves were watched. She understood why when she arrived at her desk: several issues of Country Life and a wedding dress catalogue had been put right in the middle along with the issue of a feminine magazine titling: 'From the "Pirate's bounty" to the "Final furlong", 12 positions to drive your man crazy.' Aware that all the eyes were on her, she calmly threw the Country Life issues in the wastepaper bin, quickly leafed through the catalogue before putting it into the bin too, and put the feminine magazine in her big shoulder bag. She intended it as a signal that she didn't care about the gossips and, who knew?, perhaps there would be a position Tommy and she hadn't tried yet.

'Hiya! Fancy a coffee, Babs?'

In front of her, stood the tall silhouette of Winston Nkata.

'Morning, Winnie, I wouldn't say no.'

They bought their coffees at the machine, then, cups in hand, withdrew on a desert landing.

'Everybody knows, I suppose?' Barbara asked immediately.

'Fucking hell, Babs! A story likes that, you bet it went round the Yard in no time!'

'We're not the first ones!'

'And certainly not the last, but, hey, it's Lynley!'

'Yeah, but it's more to do with me than with him, no? The most eligible bachelor of the Met and…me. They must all be wondering if he's gone totally loony.'

'It's been going on for long? You and the inspector?'

'Since last May.'

'May? Holy crap, I didn't see anything! Why didn't you say anything? You could've told me at least!'

'What for? T'was none of your business, Winnie!'

She went quiet suddenly as the door of the landing opened. A secretary with a pile of folders in her arms passed without paying attention to them and rushed downstairs. Barbara started speaking again in a lower voice.

'We're both adults and free. We don't have to answer to anybody.'

'That's not what I mean, Babs. You do what you want with whom you want but we're friends, you and me. Friends speak about that sort of things, eh?'

'I like you very much Winnie but I don't wanna know whom you fuck.'

'You're telling me it's just for the sex? Sorry but I don't buy it.'

'Why? I wouldn't be the first colleague he laid.'

'I know, but he respects you too much for that.'

'Who d'you think I am? A white dove? I like sex too.'

Winston smiled.

'I believe you; rumour has it he's a good lay.'

'He's more than good,' Barbara mumbled in her cup.

They finished their coffees in silence but before going back to their desks, Barbara asked:

'Do you know if he's arrived?'

'Yup. Dee told me he arrived at 7 sharp, and was summoned to Hillier's office with Ardery at half past. Apparently he's still there.'

Barbara looked at her watch; it was quarter past eight.

'45 minutes... What do you think is going on? It shouldn't take this long to sack someone, no?'

'Dunno. Lynley's probably trying to save your arse.'

'Good luck to him! Ardery can't wait to be rid of me.'

'Probably but I think she'd like to keep the inspector in her team so that gives him more weight for the negotiation.'

'He talked about resigning.'

'Blimey! It's really serious between you, then.'

'More serious than you think, Winnie. He proposed last night.'

'Fuck me! What did you say?'

'I said yes.'

'Oh, wow! That's brill! Congratulations, Babs!'

'Hush! We don't want to tell anybody till we know what's in store for us.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the office of Assistant Commissioner Hillier, Lynley was thinking that they would soon need a doctor.

Ardery, her face ashen, her jaws tight, didn't look well; Hillier, crimson, seemed to be on the verge of having an apoplectic fit, and as for him, he was trying so hard to contain himself that he was certainly developing a stomach ulcer.

He had tried to beat them to it and defused their threats by putting his letter of resignation on Hillier's desk before the AC could even open his mouth. Hillier had very nearly choked with rage when he'd understood that no threat of sacking, of demotion or of transfer would have a hold over a man who was offering to leave his job. So after having shouted, growled and raged all his soul against Lynley, he claimed that his affair with Havers was setting a detrimental precedent that could tarnish the Met's reputation.

Lynley took one deep breath to calm his nerves and forced himself to smile.

'With all due respect, Sir, whatever I may think of you, I have never doubted your intelligence so, pray, don't insult mine by trying to make me believe it's the first time two officers are in a relationship.'

'We have turned a blind eye to too many things already, Inspector,' Hillier retorted, 'the liberties you take with the procedures, Havers' repeated breaches of regulations, your and her insubordination. We did so in view of your positive results but this goes too far and cannot be ignored. You certainly know some officers have accused you of favouritism; they accused you of favouring Havers over them.'

'And you certainly know that these officers are jealous and less talented than her,' Tommy cut in. 'I suppose DS Nkata never complained that I treated him differently than DS Havers. Why? Because I don't. I admit I give more freedom to Havers than to other sergeants, I also admit I share more thoughts with her than with anybody; not because I'm in love with her – Hillier growled and threw his arms up – but because she's an excellent copper with a sure instinct and a capacity for analysis far better than the one of others. I'm not biased, sir, I simply rely on the best officer I have.'

'You're involved in a murder case, for God's sake!' Hillier shouted, slamming his hand on his desk. On Tommy's right, Ardery started.

'This is not our fault!' Lynley cried back.

He regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. The argument was poor and made him sound childish. He should be used to Hillier's unfairness by now! He pulled himself together and replied more calmly:

'We've nothing to do with the murder of Lady Victoria and we certainly didn't want to be involved. This is a tragic combination of circumstances. DI Stanhope is in charge and I'm confident Barbara and I will soon be in the clear.'

'Let's hope so, Lynley. In the meantime, you're both suspended, effective immediately. We'll deal with the topic of your resignation at a later date.'

'But…' Tommy was about to protest but the fire burning in Hillier's eyes persuaded him not to.

Conceding defeat, he followed Ardery out of Hillier's office.

'My office, now.'

Ardery's words, sharp and icy, took him by surprise. She hadn't talked much when they'd met this morning and had remained completely silent in Hillier's office.

He had his dose of remonstrance for the day and only wanted to talk to Barbara – good Lord, how was he going to tell her they were both suspended? – but it wouldn't be wise to further alienate the superintendent. With a heavy heart he shuffled to the super's office.

She had preceded him inside and was leaning over her desk, signing some papers her secretary had brought her. Dee Harriman looked at him quizzically and he sadly smiled at her. He went to the window and looked outside, lost in his thoughts. His reflection in the pane looked back at him. Lynley was surprised to see himself so pale and drawn. Where was the man, energetic and sure of himself, he had seen in his mirror this morning?

'I hope you're pleased with yourself.'

The icy voice drew him out of his reverie. He turned to Ardery. She was standing next to her desk, arms crossed. Deep in his thoughts he hadn't heard Dee leave the room.

'There's nothing to be pleased about,' he replied.

She didn't offer him a seat so he stayed by the window, leant against the cold pane.

'My career is in tatters and Barbara's is seriously compromised; that's not exactly cheerful news.'

'It didn't have to be that way, Thomas.'

'No, you're wrong. It was inevitable. As soon as I fell in love with Barbara I knew it would happen eventually. A DI can't be in an official relationship with his DS, can he? That's against the policy of the Met. We're not supposed to mix our jobs and our private lives. But how could we not to when we spend more time with our colleagues than with our own families?'

'I understand, Thomas, I really do. But it doesn't have to be the end of your career. Your suspension is temporary, once you're cleared in the enquiry into Lady Victoria's murder you will have your job back.'

'I resigned.'

'I'll have no trouble convincing Hillier to destroy your letter. You're an excellent police officer, he doesn't want to lose you.'

'Why would you do that?'

'For the same reason. You're my best inspector, Thomas.'

'In Hillier's office you looked like you wanted to punch me in the face.'

'I did. I still do. You've been incredibly stupid and you've put me in an impossible situation! Yesterday, when the news about you and Havers being involved in a murder case on Holy Island arrived, Hillier summoned me to his office. He asked me if it was true that you and Havers were in a relationship. What could I say? I had my suspicions, the way you behaved with her, but other people who knew you before I did told me you had been like that since the start, even when you were with Helen. So I assumed it was only a strong friendship; the complicity that comes from working for several years with the same person. I told Hillier so and I thought I had convinced him but soon we got the information that you and Havers were sharing the same bedroom at the hotel. Hillier was furious. He reproached me for not knowing a damn thing about my team; for not seeing that you and Havers were sleeping together just under my nose. Thanks to you, the Assistant Commissioner thinks I'm stupid, or worse, incompetent as a team leader!'

'I'm so sorry. I never meant to cause you trouble.'

'So get your act together now. Adopt a low profile, say Hillier you're sorry, put an end to that stupid story with Havers…what?'

Lynley was smiling but it wasn't a happy smile, it was a mixture of sadness and irony.

'You don't understand. I'm sorry I caused you trouble with Hillier but I'm not sorry for my relationship with Barbara. I love her and if I must give up my career to be with her, so be it, that's not a big sacrifice.'

'You cannot be serious!'

'I proposed to her.'

'You what!?'

'I proposed to her, and she made me the honour to say yes. We're going to get married and start a family.'

'And you'll be what? A stay-at-home dad?'

'Why not? I can think of worst jobs.'

'I don't give you a year before you grow tired of staying at home with nothing to do but changing nappies and managing your estate.'

'Who knows? My mentor at Oxford wanted me to go on with my studies. Maybe I'll take him at his word and do a PhD in History.'

'You've thought this through.'

'Not really. My only certainty is that I want to be with Barbara.'

'Nothing I will say or do will make you change your mind?'

'Nothing.'

'All is said then. Good luck, Thomas.'

'Thank you, guv.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile in Northumberland, DI Vera Stanhope was thinking that things were not so bad after all. She'd had her first meeting with the team from London, one DI, a couple of DC's and a bunch of uniforms but before it, the DI, a near-retirement-age Elliott Kerbb – 'with two b's - had told her in private that he didn't intend to put her in the shade.

'I never liked when they imposed another team on me,' he told her when they were alone in her office,' and I don't suppose you like it either. My boss probably told yours I'm the best inspector he had and that's rubbish, I'm not even the second best. I'm not bad, don't get me wrong, I solved my share of crimes and put some really nasty bastards behind bars, but with the budget cuts and the transfer of a whole load of detectives to the anti-terrorist squad we've got work over our heads in London, so my boss wasn't going to send his most brilliant asset up North because a friend of the top cheese wanted him to. He probably thought I was the most dispensable of the inspectors. I'm at the end of my career, I've nothing left to prove. I will support you the best I can, Vera, but I'll gladly leave you in charge.'

'But if we fail, you'll be held responsible for it. Lord Juniper seems to be well acquainted within the police force.'

'I don't like the idea of a civilian meddling in police affairs. Anyway, what can they do to me? Ask me to take an early leave? I'll happily oblige! I'm due to retire in nine months; there's not much harm they can do to me now. I'll be glad if I can put a last murderer away before I go, though.'

The meeting had lasted longer than usual to put the new team in the picture about the latest developments of the enquiry. Vera wanted to concentrate on Lady Edwina Morton-Meyers and Alistair Pennyworth.

'Lady Morton-Meyers seems quite fond of her friend Lord Juniper and may have resented the arrival of the new young bride. She possibly had pictured herself the next Lady Juniper when Juniper lost his first wife and her plans were destroyed by Juniper's marriage with Lady Victoria. She told Barbara Havers that she knew chemistry and herbalism. She would have had the knowledge to poison Lady V. The question is: did she have the opportunity to do it?'

'Do we know how the poison was administered?', Kerbb asked.

'Not yet. The pathologist is working on it. Second, Alistair Pennyworth. He admitted he went to the victim's room the night of the murder. He claims she didn't let him in but Lady Morton-Meyers thinks otherwise. He says he found solace with the night clerk. Joe?'

'She confirmed his statement. There's a little room behind the reception desk where they spent roughly two hours together between midnight and two o'clock. However, this does not necessarily clear him. He would have had the time to poison Lady Victoria before or after.'

'What would have been his motive?' Holly asked. 'He didn't even know her before this week-end.'

'That's what he told us,' Vera replied, 'but we only have his word for it. I want you, Joe, to go on on Pennyworth, I want the full picture: who he is, who he knows, the places he goes to. I want to be sure he really met Lady V. for the first time this week-end. Holly, you take Lady Morton-Meyers. For the moment we only have what she told Barbara Havers and we need to confirm it.'

'You think Havers lied?' Kerbb asked.

'I don't think so. Why would she lie?'

'To protect someone by orienting us towards someone else,' Joe replied.

Vera gave him a black look; she knew exactly whom Joe had in mind.

'Lynley's been cleared by his DNA,' she retorted sternly.

'He's not the lover we're looking for but he could have killed her nonetheless.'

Joe knew he was taking the risk of attracting Vera's wrath upon him but he wasn't going to clear Lynley so easily just because the boss liked him.

'What do you make of Morton-Meyers' statement that she heard Lynley and Havers all night?' Vera asked wryly.

'We don't know how the poison was administered. Maybe Lynley gave it to Lady V. before going to bed.'

'And she would have waited to take it? That's absurd!'

'She didn't know what it was. He didn't tell her it was going to kill her! You think the poison was in one of her pills but maybe it was concealed in a candy or a fudge…I don't know.'

'Of course, you don't know! There's nothing to be known. What would his motive be?'

'If we're going to explore this possibility, perhaps we'd better suspect Barbara Havers then,' Holly said.

All heads turned in her direction.

'If she lied, and I don't say she did,' she quickly added for Vera,' it could have been to protect herself.'

'What would have been her motive? Jealousy? Lynley chose her over Victoria,' Vera replied.

'Did he really? The fact he didn't sleep with the victim the night she was killed doesn't mean he never did. Victoria could have posed a risk to Havers' relationship with Lynley.'

'I don't think so,' Kerbb said calmly. 'I never worked with them but if everything I heard about them is true, nothing or no-one could tear them apart.'

'With all due respect, sir, hearsay are not facts,' Holly countered.

'You're right, of course,' Kerbb agreed,' but I think we'd better concentrate on the actions DI Stanhope has just listed.'

'Enough words, then, time for action!' Vera added and, waving her hand, she dismissed the team.

Her phone rang. It was Billy Wainwright. The pathologist wanted to see her.

'Inspector Kerbb?' she called out.

'Elliott.'

'Elliott, the pathologist's got something for us.'

On their way to the mortuary she asked Kerbb:

'Do you really believe what you said about Lynley and Havers?'

She was driving her old Range Rover and was concentrating on the road. Kerbb suspected she had intentionally waited to be in the car so she could ask him without looking at him.

'I haven't been completely honest with you. I told you I'd never worked with them and that's true but I've seen them more than once, alone or together. I'm not surprised they're a couple, they always seemed to need the other. When they're apart they search each other and when they're together it's as if there was a bubble around them that keeps everybody else outside. I don't think Barbara Havers is jealous and I don't think she has any reason to be, however…'

He let his sentence unfinished, as if he was searching for the right word to explain his thought.

'Yes?' Vera pressed him.

'They've been in trouble several times with their hierarchy because their loyalty to each other has no limit. Even if they disagree, even if they argue, they'll stand together against their superiors or the IPCC.'

He added, as if with regret:

'They'll do anything to protect the other.'

They didn't say anything else until Vera stopped her car in the car-park of the morgue. There she turned to Kerbb.

'Why didn't you say that during the meeting?'

Kerbb looked at her and shrugged his shoulders.

'I simply didn't think it was important. Not yet, at least. The trails of Morton-Meyers, Sivajothi, and Victoria's lover seem far more promising. It'll always be time to reconsider our position if we run out of suspects in the future.'

'I'll have to keep that hypothesis in mind.'

'Oh, I'm certain your subordinates will make sure you remember,' Kerbb replied with a wink.

Vera chuckled and got out the car.


	12. Chapter 11

Billy Wainwright was leaning against a lab bench. He was in deep conversation with a young female technician who was examining something under a microscope. She moved her head aside and he leaned over her to have a look at the sample too, resting his hands on her shoulders, his head only a few inches away from the woman's.

'Morning Billy,' Vera said as she entered the room, with Kerbb in tow. 'How's your wife?'

The pathologist jerked upright.

'Vera! I didn't hear you come in.'

'Surprising how someone my size can have such light steps, eh?' she replied with a wicked smile. 'That's the one good thing my father taught me, walking without making me noticed. This is DI Kerbb from the Metropolitan Police. You have found something?'

'Yes… and no.'

Vera frowned.

'Come that way and I'll explain everything,' Wainwright added quickly, gesturing for them to follow him.

He led them to a small, coldly impersonal room with white walls and metallic furniture. Kerbb took the seat the pathologist offered him, Vera preferred to stand.

'So?' she asked as soon as Wainwright closed the door. 'What is it you didn't find?'

'Your lover,' the pathologist answered with a wicked smile.

'You know you're the only one in my heart, Billy,' she retorted, 'but I suppose that by 'your lover' you mean Victoria's lover?'

'I can't keep anything from you. None of the DNA's we tested matched the one we took on the scene.'

'Too bad,' Kerbb said. 'We've only the chauffeur left in her entourage and then we'll have to consider the hotel staff.'

'Did you find him?' Wainwright asked.

'Not yet. Anything else, Billy? You didn't ask me to come merely to tell me this.'

'I told you what I didn't find; now I'll tell you what I found.'

He opened the drawer of the desk and retrieved a Petri dish he brandished in front of the inspectors like a trophy.

'Ta-da!'

Kerbb put his spectacles on to examine the dish Wainwright was handing him. With a doubtful pout he passed it on to Vera who squinted to look at the shapeless form inside the dish.

'What am I looking at?'

'That's all is left from a capsule her Ladyship swallowed shortly before her death; a capsule that contained, you'll never guess, strychnine.'

'I didn't know one could buy strychnine in capsules.'

'You can't. The capsule has been tampered with; its content replaced with the poison.'

'Did you examine the drugs we found in her bedroom?' Vera asked, with a renewed interest for the pathologist.

'Yes and we found the drug that's been tampered. It's an anti-emetic used to treat hyperemesis gravidarum.'

'Hyper-nemesis…'

'Hyperemesis gravidarum. That's a severe form of morning sickness. That's the one the Duchess of Cambridge suffered from during her pregnancies.'

'Have the other capsules been tampered with?'

'No, apparently there was only one.'

'You're sure of the drug?'

'100%.'

'Then it must be someone close to her. Close enough to tamper with her medicine.'

'With whom does that leave us?' Kerbb asked for no one in particular. 'Her husband. Her lover. Lady Morton-Meyers?'

'Billy, does it take long to replace the powder inside the capsule with the strychnine?'

'No, with a bit of training a couple of minutes would be more than enough.'

'So anyone who had access to her bedroom could have done it.'

'But how could he or she know she was going to take this pill that week-end?' Kerbb asked.

'He didn't know, that's the beauty of the thing,' Vera answered with too much enthusiasm for the men's liking. 'The murderer didn't even need to be at the hotel. He could have prepared the capsule and put it back in the bottle long before the Junipers arrived on Holy Island. That's clever, that's really clever.'

She took her mobile out of the pocket of her coat and speed-dialled Joe Ashworth.

'Joe, we need to know more about the bottle of anti-emetic Victoria had in her vanity case. Who prescribed it and when; who delivered it to her and when; how many pills did she take per day; who had access to this bottle… What? Say again. Yes, at the hotel and elsewhere… I don't know! Her house, another hotel! Everywhere she took that bottle since she got it… What? I can't hear you! Yes, the poison was in one of the capsules! What's that bloody noise in the end? I can't hear a thing!'

'It's the siren of the car,' Joe shouted in his phone. 'We received a call from the border police at Newcastle! They caught Arun Sivajothi when he tried to embark illegally on a ferry to Holland! I'm going there with the DC from London!'

'Wait for me!' Vera shouted back.

Less than a minute after she was in her car, shooting off at top speed like a Formula 1 driver.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'He doesn't look particularly nervous,' Vera pointed out.

She was in the observation room at Newcastle main police station with Joe, Elliott Kerbb, and his constable. On the other side of the two-way mirror, in the interview room was Arun Sivajothi. He was a handsome man with brown skin, black short hair and a fashionable three-day beard. He seemed lost in his thoughts as he played with the golden chain bracelet at his left wrist.

'Did he say anything?' Kerbb asked.

'No, sir,' Joe answered. 'He tried to board the ferry hidden inside the trailer of a freight lorry but the inspections have been tightened up because of the terrorist threat and he was caught by the border police. He didn't resist. He had his papers with him and seventy-five pounds in cash.'

'Okay. Elliott, you're the most senior officer here, how do you want to play it?'

Kerbb smiled.

'Thank you, Vera, I appreciate your asking me but, I told you, I'm here to help you. Take the lead; I'll be in support.'

Joe saw Vera's eyes sparkle with joy and excitement. He knew she loved her job and was never more alive than when she was on the trail of a murderer. She took off her coat – she was wearing an old-fashioned flowery dress under it – took a couple of files under her arm and preceded Kerbb inside the interview room.

At the sight of her, Sivajothi rose from his chair. Politeness? Reflex of a servant? Tactic? Vera didn't know but she took note of it nonetheless. She gestured to him to sit down again. She took the chair directly opposite him; Kerbb sat on her right.

'Mr Sivajothi, I'm DI Stanhope from Northumberland Police and here is DI Kerbb from New Scotland Yard.'

The reaction she obtained from Sivajothi at the mention of the Yard was not the one she had expected; he looked sincerely puzzled.

'New Scotland Yard? Why would it be involved?' he asked.

His voice was high-pitched and faint, and contrasted oddly with the manliness he displayed otherwise.

'Do you know why you're here, Mr Sivajothi?'

'I tried to leave the country illegally,' he answered, still fiddling with his bracelet.

'Why did you do this, pet?' Vera asked softly.

'I stole a car,' he answered, head bowed in embarrassment.

'Why did you steal it?'

'I lost my mind, inspector. There was this woman…the woman I love more than anything, more than my life, and she said she didn't love me, that I was just a toy…I was furious, and ashamed…For her I betrayed my employer, a good man who gave me a job and welcomed me in his house…I humiliated myself in front of her, I accepted everything from her, she could do everything she wanted to me and I was happy to be her creature because I thought she loved me. But she didn't.'

He raised his head and, for the first time, looked directly at Vera. He had beautiful black eyes.

'We argued and I realized what a fool I had been. I couldn't stay, I had lost my honour, I wasn't a man anymore. I had the keys of the car, I was a chauffeur you see, and I left. I wanted to go to Holland and from there I don't know, try to rebuild my life.'

'What did you do of the car?'

'I parked it in an underground carpark in Newcastle. I didn't damage it, not a scratch. Lord Juniper knows I've always taken good care of his car.'

'Why steal it then?'

'I didn't steal it,' he protested. 'I always intended to say where it was once in Holland, but I needed to go away and I had the keys.'

'You borrowed it.'

'Yes, exactly, I borrowed it,' Sivajothi repeated, seemingly relieved that the big woman inspector understood his point of view.

'That's no big deal, you could have explained yourself, no need to run out of the country for that, eh?'

'But when I calmed down, I realized what I had done and what it looked like. I knew everybody would think I'd stolen the car. I knew the police would be after me. I'd never have imagined they'd bring in Scotland Yard.'

'Am I right to suppose that your lover was Lady Victoria Juniper?'

The chauffeur bowed his head.

'Yes, but please, don't tell Lord Juniper. He doesn't need to know. You've the car now; you don't need to tell him. He's always been good to me.'

His hands put together, Sivajothi was pleading the two detectives. The anxiety in his eyes and voice seemed genuine.

'Tell us what happened on the night you took the car.'

'But I've just…'

'Tell us again,' Vera cut in with a smile to soften the sharpness of the order, 'we, police officers, need to be told several times the same things to understand them fully.'

'I had an argument with a woman…'

'Lady Victoria.'

'Yes, and I…'

'Not so fast. Where were you?'

'She had a suite at the Orchard hotel on Holy Island.'

'You were in her bedroom.'

'Yes.'

'When had you arrived?'

'On the island?'

'No, in her bedroom.'

'At around eleven o'clock.'

'How did you enter? Was she inside?'

'No, she was still downstairs but she had given me her keys before the dinner telling me to go and wait for her in her suite. She arrived shortly after twenty past eleven.'

'Where were you then? In her bedroom or in the lounge of her suite?'

Sivajothi lowered his voice, obviously embarrassed.

'I was in her bedroom. That was our arrangement: I was to wait for her in her bed. Naked.'

'So she arrives and then what? Straight to business?'

'No. Someone knocked at her door shortly after, at around quarter to midnight. We were afraid it was Baroness Morton-Meyers – she's always, pardon me, poking her nose into everything and she doesn't like Lady Victoria – but it was Mr Pennyworth and she quickly dismissed him. When she came back I had poured us two glasses of champagne but she didn't want to drink.'

'Who brought the champagne?'

'Me.'

'Did she tell you why she didn't want to drink?'

A deep sadness clouded his eyes.

'No, but I guessed later.'

'Don't anticipate,' Vera interrupted him, 'it's important we have the chronology right.'

'As you wish but there's not much left to add. We made love and afterwards we had this terrible argument.'

'What was the cause of the argument?'

'Look, I really don't see why you're asking all these questions. I took Lord Juniper's car, I hid from the police, and I tried to leave the country illegally; I plead guilty to everything, the rest isn't important for you.'

'Let us decide what's important,' Vera replied. 'So? The argument?'

Sivajothi scratched his head, pressed a crease on the sleeve of his shirt, and then started playing with his bracelet again.

'I asked her to marry me,' he finally answered. 'She laughed. I know I'm just a chauffeur and she's a Lady but I thought we had something special. I thought she loved me. I'm educated, you know, I took this job to help me finance my pharmacy studies and I stayed because I liked it but, for her, I would have found another job, a better paid job. I would have earned enough money for me and her. I'd have done anything for her. She was my world; I worshipped the very air she breathed.'

'You're speaking in the past tense,' Vera noticed.

'Yes, because that's finished now. I saw who she truly is. I offered her my life and she laughed and said horrible things. I realized I was an idiot. I loved a dream, a woman who has never existed. She never loved me; I was a paste-time, a leisure, a mere sex-toy.'

'It must have been terrible.'

Yes, I was devastated, humiliated. We argued and she told me to leave her bedroom. She said she was going to the bathroom and that when she'd come out I'd better be gone. So I put my clothes on, emptied the glasses of champagne to steady my nerves…that's when I saw it.'

'What?'

'The bottle of anti-emetic capsules in her vanity case.'

Vera and Kerbb exchanged a look. Sivajothi didn't notice it and continued:

'I can put two and two together, inspector. A young woman who suddenly doesn't drink champagne anymore and needs anti-emetic capsules…she's expecting a child.'

'Is there a possibility the child is yours?'

He sighed painfully.

'No. I would have loved to but no. I always used a condom. She wouldn't let me touch her if I didn't have one.'

'Were you angry she was bearing another man's child?'

'No, she's married. Lord Juniper isn't young but it had to be expected. Will you tell me why you're so interested in my affair with Lady Victoria in the end?'

Vera briefly looked at Kerbb who nodded in silence.

'Mr Sivajothi,' she said,' I regret to inform you that Lady Victoria Juniper died on the night you left Holy Island.'

He stared at her with big round eyes.

'No, no, it's not possible,' he finally said, shaking his head in denial. 'There must be a mistake. She's young and fit.'

'I'm afraid there is no mistake, Mr Sivajothi,' Kerbb said softly.

Kerbb's confirmation shattered all remains of hope in Sivajothi. He hid his face in his hands as if he didn't want to face the truth. Vera thought he was going to cry but after a moment he asked:

'What happened? A complication with the baby?'

When he looked at Vera his face had lost all colour, his eyes were watery, and his voice was shaking. _If he killed her_ , Vera thought _, he deserves a Laurence Olivier awards for his acting._

'No, it's a murder.'

'A murder?'

Sivajothi stood gaping, his eyes going to Vera to Kerbb.

'Who would want to kill her?'

'Well, it seems you had all the reasons in the world' Vera replied. 'You admitted you had a heated argument with the victim shortly before she died. She used you and humiliated you, maybe you suspected it before but now you're sure her feelings aren't true. She deceived you, played with your heart and you're furious, hurt in your man's pride, you want to make her pay, take your revenge.'

'No! No! I didn't harm her!' Sivajothi protested. 'She was in the bathroom when I left, I could hear the shower. Surely someone could confirm this. The neighbour or the person in the room below hers must have heard the water too.'

'How long were you alone in her bedroom after the argument?'

'How…? I don't know. It doesn't matter. You must talk to the people in the room below hers…'

'We'll do what we have to do, Mr Sivajothi, now answer my question: how long were you alone in the bedroom?'

'I don't know, just the time to put my clothes on…'

'And drink the champagne,' Kerbb added.

'Yes, the champagne…Maybe five minutes maybe a couple of minutes more. But it doesn't matter, she was alive when I left.'

Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead that were now trickling down his face. He wiped them with the back of his hand in a nervous gesture.

'Of course, she was alive,' Vera countered mercilessly, 'you had prepared your alibi carefully. You were away when she died. Who would think that you didn't need to be there to kill her?'

'That's nonsense! How could I have killed her when I wasn't even on the island?' Sivajothi shouted, rather aggressively. 'This is absurd! You're accusing me because I'm an Indian man! Let's charge the Indian servant with the murder of the young white English countess! This is racism! But I won't sit on my hands while you're putting the blame on me! I demand to see a lawyer! I won't tell you anything more!'

He crossed his arms and withdrew into total, hostile silence.

Understanding that they wouldn't obtain anything more from him, Vera and Kerbb left the interview room. Kerbb was beaming:

'We got this enquiry done fast!' he exulted. 'He can ask for a lawyer now, he already told us everything we needed to know. It's him, I'd stake my life on it!'

'I wouldn't be so affirmative if I were you,' Vera objected.

'Oh, come on, Vera! He has the motive: she humiliated him and mocked his love; the opportunity: she left him alone with the anti-emetic capsules long enough to tamper them; the means: he told us he studied pharmacy, he knew about the effects of strychnine and he knew how to replace the drug in the capsule with the poison. What do you need more?'

'Still… Something's not right.'

'Don't let him take you in with his allegation of racism. I bet it'll be his line of defence. He knows he's bust.'

'That's not what's bothering me. There's something…something I can't put my finger on yet…something that doesn't fit in the picture.'

'You don't want to charge him?'

'Not with murder. With theft, with leaving the country illegally, with anything we can think of, but not with murder. Not yet.'

'I don't understand you.'

Vera smiled sadly.

'I know. I don't understand myself sometimes.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'I don't understand you,' Barbara told Tommy.

They were in his library on the first floor of his house in Belgravia. Barbara was on the Chesterfield sofa, her legs tucked under her as usual; Tommy was pacing the room up and down like a lion in a cage.

'You resigned but you're mad at Hillier because he suspended you. That doesn't make any sense.'

'It's not the same thing. He didn't accept my resignation, he said he'd consider it later. When I wrote my resignation letter early this morning, I thought that tonight I'd know my fate but, no, Hillier chose to keep me hanging about to demonstrate his power. I hate being in limbo. I can't make any plan for my future yet. That's frustrating.'

'And me? What should I say? I don't know if I should start looking for a new job either and my finances don't allow me to idle away my time for a long period, and by 'long period' I mean a fortnight.'

Tommy smiled warmly at her.

'You realize that's not true anymore, don't you? We're going to get married, darling, my money is now your money.'

'I didn't view things from this angle…,' she replied dreamily, 'but you'd better be careful what you say: I could take you at your word if we divorced and demand half your wealth.'

'We're not married yet and you talk of divorce!'

'I'm simply considering every possibility,' Barbara said playfully.

'You've a heart of stone,' Tommy bantered, leaning over her.

'But you love me nonetheless,' she said, pulling him down by his tie until their heads were level.

'Yes, I do,' he whispered, choosing his words on purpose.

'You may kiss the bride-to-be,' Barbara concluded.

Tommy happily obliged.

Later, snuggled up in Tommy's arms, Barbara broached the subject again.

'You know, I wouldn't mind if you wanted a pre-nuptial agreement to protect your estate.'

'Do you want one?'

'Me? I don't have any money; I don't need a pre-nups!'

'I don't need one either.'

'You're sure?'

'I am. Stop asking silly questions now, we've some serious matters to discuss,' Tommy said in a very serious way.

Barbara sat upright, unsure of what was coming.

'Do you want a big wedding or something more intimate?' Tommy asked with a grin.

She poked him in the ribs for making fun of her but she was internally relieved.

'I don't want a big wedding. I don't like Westminster Abbey that much and I wouldn't know how to walk in a dress with a five-meter train. Just the registry office and a few drinks with our friends afterwards. And maybe a small wedding ceremony at the chapel at Howenstow if your mother insists. What do you say?'

'I say I can't wait for the day you'll be my wife.'

'It's OK for you?'

'It's perfect, Barbara, that's what I want too.'

'Right, but there's…' she started but Tommy didn't let her go on:

'All settled, then. We only need to find a date now. What do you think of this week-end?'

'This week-end? No!'

'Why not?'

'It's a bit hasty. I've nothing to wear, and I must decide what to do with my house, and I need to move my things here, and we didn't tell anybody yet. We need to tell your family at least, they may want to come to London, and…'

'Hey! Hey, Barbara!' Tommy interrupted her, 'take a breath. We've the rest of the week to call my family and find you a dress, nothing insurmountable. As for your move, you don't have so many things to bring here, it can easily be done in a day and we can do that after the wedding. And for your house, there's no need to hurry either, you can take your time to decide what you'll do with it.'

Barbara bit her lower lip, a sign something was bothering her. Tommy understood he hadn't convinced her so he added:

'But if you need another week, we can wait. I just don't want to wait too long, Barbara. I know the dirty tricks life can play on us and I don't want to waste any minute of my life with you.'

'I know, it's just… there's something I must ask you before we're married.'

'In case I wouldn't want to marry you after?' he asked jokingly.

'That may be the case,' she answered.

The seriousness in her voice frightened Tommy. He took her hands in his and forced her to look him in the eyes.

'Whatever it is, Barbara, I can face it. I love you.'

She took her courage in both hands and went ahead:

'Do you remember the little girl we rescued from that cave near Nanrunnel last May? The one whose mother had been murdered?'

'Lily? Yes, of course I remember her.'

With a smile he encouraged her to go on.

'She's in a host family near Saint Ives. I kept in touch with her to make sure she was happy and treated well.'

'You did? That's very kind of you, Barbara. Why didn't you tell me?'

'I don't know. It seemed a bit stupid.'

'That's not stupid! Knowing what had happened to her mother in her youth, it was normal you wanted to make sure Lily was safe.'

'You think so? Anyway, she's well looked after but the family has other children and Lily's a bit lost. She's not used to having many children around her and she has trouble coping with the noise and agitation. After you left last night, I thought about that a bit and I thought… if you agree, of course … that… perhaps… we could try to adopt her. But maybe it's not possible; maybe you can't because it will be a problem for your succession…'

Tommy interrupted her by planting a kiss on her lips.

'Barbara Havers, that's the best idea you've ever had. After agreeing to marry me, of course.'

'You mean you agree?'

'Of course, I agree.'

'It won't be a problem if she's your first child?'

Tommy smiled fondly at his fiancée.

'Not a problem at all. Besides, an adoption procedure can take years to be finalized, we may already have a child or two before she becomes part of our family.'

'A child or two? How many children do you want, your Lordship?'

'As many as you'll be willing to give me, your Ladyship.'

'I'm almost 40, there's no time to waste.'

'Maybe you could forget about your pills?' he asked tentatively.

'Only if you forget about your condoms,' she replied with a smile.

'It's a deal done! I hate those things. I can't stand the idea of having something between you and me.'

He kissed her on the lips but she opened her mouth to let him deepen the kiss.

'Where's Denton?' she asked between two kisses.

'Gone to a casting. Not due back before 5 o'clock,' Tommy answered in her neck. 'Shall we go to our bedroom?'

'No, I've always wanted to make love to you on that sofa.'

They had to get up to undress completely more easily and then Barbara pushed Tommy back onto the sofa.

'You're beautiful,' she told him appreciatively.

'And all yours,' he replied, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture.

She straddled him and guided him inside her. The feeling was intense as she moved up and down his erected sex. Tommy let her lead the dance, too busy licking, sucking, and kissing her lips, her neck, and her breasts. When she was close to climax she started to wriggle in an uncontrolled way.

'Tommy, help me, please,' she pleaded him.

Without a word, he moved his hands down her back, caressed her buttocks and grabbed her hips, while his hips started an up-and-down move of their own. Each time he went up he forced Barbara down onto him making her cry out with pleasure. That way it didn't take long for Barbara to come, followed a few seconds later by Tommy.

They stayed tightly embraced several minutes to catch their breath. His head resting in Barbara's neck Tommy said:

'We may well just have done a child, you know.'

'I know,' Barbara replied simply.

'I'm happy.'

'I'm happy too.'


	13. Chapter 12

'Lady Vivian Hall.'

'Hello, Lord Asherton's speaking. May I speak to Lady Alice, please?'

'A moment, please, your Lordship, I shall see if Lady Alice can take your call.'

'Thank you.'

At the other end of the line, Tommy heard the footsteps of the butler on the tiled floor at Lady Vivian Hall.

 _A peculiar name for a house that never belonged to any Lady Vivian_ , Tommy thought, _but so characteristic of Alice._

Like a lot of people, he knew the story behind the name: Lady Vivian had been the first champion to come out of Lady Alice's stables. For eight years the mare had won all the most prestigious races of the horse racing world and with her gains the recently widowed Lady Alice had bought this house to leave to her son and his family the exclusive use of the ancestral home of the Rhys-Fitzwilliam's. Her decision to name her house after a horse had caused a stir in the aristocracy but Lady Alice didn't care about the so-called right-minded people and quickly the scandal had faded away.

'Good afternoon, my dear Tommy,' a clear and enthusiastic voice said in the phone, 'to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?'

'Good afternoon, Alice. I was wondering if you were free on Saturday next week?'

'Is that an invitation?'

'It is. Please accept my deepest apologies for the informality and the short-notice of this invitation but we decided on the date only this morning.'

'We?'

'Barbara and I are getting married.'

'Well, I won't say it's about time but it certainly took you longer than I expected,' Lady Alice replied joyfully.

Tommy was left speechless. Lady Alice noticed it and continued:

'You're surprised? When I first saw you with Barbara last May I told your mother I wouldn't be surprised if you two got married before the end of the year. It took you a bit longer but my prediction wasn't so bad, was it?'

'You knew more than I did at that time!'

'I'm an old woman, Tommy, I've a sure instinct for that sort of things. Will there be a religious ceremony?'

'Not on that day. Only the registry office and a small party afterwards. We'll have a private ceremony at Howenstow later. You'll be invited there too, of course.'

'You're doing me a great honour, my boy. How did your mother take the news? She must have been delighted.'

'She's extremely happy but that didn't prevent her to tell me off because I haven't given Barbara an engagement ring yet.'

'Is it really necessary? You're getting married in less than a fortnight.'

'That's exactly what Barbara said!'

'That young woman is full of common sense.'

'Indeed. But I want to give her a ring. It's just that it was a sudden decision we took last night and I haven't had the time to go to the jeweller's yet. I can't give her Helen's; it'd be the height of bad taste.'

'I agree. She would feel like a substitute for your late wife. Better no ring than Helen's.'

'So, will we have the pleasure of your company on Saturday?'

'The pleasure will be mine, my dear boy.'

With a suddenly serious voice she added:

'Did you hear about what happened to Victoria?'

'Yes, I was there, on Holy Island.'

'That's what I presumed when they mentioned the Hastings Club. It's terrible, Tommy. I didn't like her much but she didn't deserve to die that way. She was so young.'

'Yes, that's a tragedy. I know the DI in charge, Vera Stanhope, she's very able, and I'm confident she'll find who did this.'

'God hears you, Tommy. How's Juniper coping?'

Tommy sighed.

'He's putting on a brave face and it's difficult to say how he is behind the façade. Probably totally wrecked.'

'I hope so.'

'What do you mean?'

'Tommy, am I wrong to suppose you're judging of his grief by the yardstick of your pain when you lost Helen?'

'He's just lost his wife, whom he seemed to love deeply; it's only logical to assume he's heartbroken.'

'To be heartbroken, my sweet child, one needs to have a heart, organ I've always thought he was missing.'

'Alice, you're full of surprises!' Tommy exclaimed. 'I didn't know you could be so harsh.'

'I can't stand him,' she spat with disgust. 'If you knew what I know about him, what his poor wife, the first Lady Juniper, told me... Tommy, that man's a cold-blooded monster!'

Lynley was surprised by the vehemence of his old friend; Alice wasn't the kind of woman to denigrate anyone lightly. The detective in him awoke immediately.

'Alice, if you know anything that could help the police, you must say it. May I convince you to talk to DI Stanhope?'

'I don't want to leave London for the moment, Tommy, I've a bout of gout that hurts like hell. But if you think this is important, maybe you could convince the inspector to spare an old ailing woman the trouble of the travel and to come to see me here instead?'

Tommy laughed up his sleeve. He knew Lady Alice too well to be taken in by her description of herself as an 'old ailing woman'. Despite her great age she was full of life, and her gout was the result of her immoderate passion for whisky and good fare. Nonetheless, he replied seriously:

'I'll contact her and let you know her answer.'

'She can come whenever she likes; I'm not going anywhere.'

'I'll tell her. Take care of you, Alice. I need you up and running for the wedding.'

'I'll come to your wedding, my boy, even if I must use a sedan chair! And give my kindest regards to Barbara.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at Kimmerston station, Vera was locked in her office, alone. Through the panes of her cubicle she could see Joe Ashworth actively working his phone, at the research of the answers to all the questions she had about Victoria's medical treatment. He was a good detective, still a bit wet behind the ears but learning fast. And he was not afraid to speak his mind with her, which is why they had spent the return journey from Newcastle arguing about her decision not to charge Arun Sivajothi with murder.

She had asked Elliott Kerbb to stay with Sivajothi and resume the interview once his lawyer would be there. She wanted to know all the movements of the chauffeur between the time he had left Holy Island and the moment he had been found in the lorry by the border police. She had also sent the DC from London to the carpark where Sivajothi had left Lord Juniper's car. She wanted the Rolls-Royce fully examined by forensics and if it meant taking it to pieces, so be it. Juniper wouldn't cry over his car if it helped find the murderer of his lovely young wife, would he?

 _Would he?_

The question tormented her since she had given the order to DC what's-his-name. Despite all his noisy requests to have the best CID teams to work on the case, and his personal appeal to New Scotland Yard, Juniper hadn't made things easier for the detectives. Vera knew he was behind the decision of her boss to allow all the guests of the hotel to leave Holy Island immediately, despite his earlier agreement to leave her 24 more hours. She had no doubt Juniper was a control freak, tough in business, tough with his family and his friends – if he had any besides Edwina Morton-Meyers. Things had to be according to his ideas, and his only. How did it square then with Victoria's habit to take lovers? Was it his idea? Did he like watching his wife with other men? Or was it a distorted sign of control? You can sleep with whoever you want but you'll always come back to me because you're mine? If Sivajothi was to be believed, Victoria was intransigent about the use of condoms: no condom, no sex. But why insist on it when she knew she was pregnant? Was it by fear of STD or was it Juniper's order: they can have you but don't ever let them sully you with their semen? And what in Sivajothi's statement had bothered her? She couldn't put her finger on it, yet she was sure it was important. Frustrated, she heaved a disgruntled sigh; her thoughts were leading her nowhere.

A knock on her door made her raise her head. Joe was behind the pane, waving his notepad at her. She beckoned him to come in.

'Found anything, Joey boy?'

'I worked on the capsules, as it seemed more urgent than Pennyworth. I talked to Victoria's gynaecologist. She confirmed the victim was six-week pregnant and suffered from severe morning sickness. She gave her a prescription of anti-emetic capsules. Victoria had to take one each day, but could take up to two more if she vomited, keeping an interval between the doses of at least 6 hours.'

'According to Billy, she took the poisoned capsule at around half past three in the morning. She must have been sick and she took the capsule. Did the gynaecologist tell you what Victoria's state of mind was? Was she happy to be pregnant or was she anxious?'

'She seemed very happy. She talked with the gynaecologist about the line of the Juniper's going on, said she hoped it was a boy, that sort of things.'

'Did they talk about Lord Juniper's reaction?'

'Victoria said her husband was…,' Joe consulted his notes, '...ecstatic about the prospect of becoming a father again.'

'He had no doubt about his paternity, then.'

'It seems not but Victoria surely wouldn't have said if he had doubts anyway.'

'Go on.'

'The bottle of capsules comes from the pharmacy of Applesbury, which is the village close to the Juniper's estate. Lord and Lady Juniper were regular clients, nothing interesting here. The bottle's been delivered straight after the prescription had been made and was supposed to last one month.'

'And when was that?'

'Two weeks ago. I called Lord Juniper and he told me that his wife stayed at home after seeing the gynaecologist to rest and that the Hastings Club meeting of this week-end was the first time she had gone out since then. However, he confirmed Lady Morton-Meyers had come to visit and had stayed for the night.'

'Did she go to Victoria's bedroom?'

'Yes, she did. Lady Victoria asked her to go and fetch a book for her in her bedroom.'

'So, she could have tampered with the capsules without anyone noticing it. I need to talk to her.'

'She's staying at Claptom House, Lord Juniper's estate , for a while.'

'Playing Lady of the manor already?'

'Officially to support her friend in this difficult time,' Joe answered, his scepticism clear in his voice.

'Oh! That's so kind of her.'

'Indeed.'

They both grinned.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alistair Pennyworth was back at his great-aunt's. He had stayed in bed most of the day, officially because his leg was hurting, in truth because he had many things on his mind he needed to sort. Aunt Hettie was nice but her never-ending chatter rendered one unable to think deeply. And he needed to think. The quick succession of events after the discovery of Victoria's body had put him at risk, he knew it. Caught in the whirlwind of the investigation he hadn't had the time to prepare his story correctly. He hoped he hadn't let anything pass his lips. Tucked up in his comfortable bed, in the large room that was now his, he replayed in his head every word he had told the police. He had to be careful if he didn't want to lose everything. DI Stanhope wasn't stupid. Her body may be fat but her mind was sharp; she had quickly cornered him into admitting he had been to Victoria's suite. He hoped his alibi had cleared him but he couldn't be sure. He wished he had spent the whole night with the clerk and not just had a quickie with her, his alibi would have been much stronger. But regrets were useless: one cannot rewrite the past. And the night clerk had been disappointing, way too sober to his liking. He would have died of boredom if he had spent more time with her. A little smile appeared on his lips as he remembered when that old bag of Morton-Meyers had complained about the noises coming from Asherton's bedroom. He had heard them too but, contrary to her, he had enjoyed every minute of them. Listening to their moans of pleasure, he had played with himself in the dark, imagining it was him who was making Barbara come.

Barbara Havers. What a strange woman. There was nothing remarkable about her, until she talked to you. Then you realized she was smart, funny, and kind.

 _And a police woman,_ Alistair admonished himself, hitting his head with his fists repeatedly as if to make the idea enter his mind and stay there. He had been so stupid, talking to her on several occasions when he should have avoided her at all cost. It would have been easy to pretend he shared Juniper and Edwina's contempt for her, but no, he had been attracted to her like a butterfly to a light. _Where it usually burns its wings and dies_ , he added bitterly. He had been careless with her, had told her too much. And this morning she had texted him, saying Asherton and her were getting married in a fortnight and that she'd be happy to see him at the private reception afterwards. _And being the bloody fool you are, you said yes, dumb boy!_ The place would be crammed with police officers; he'd better be prepared. Catching sight of the time at the small clock on the marble mantelpiece, he decided he could no longer avoid his great-aunt. She had told him the previous evening she had many questions about his stay on Holy Island. _About the murder_ , he had translated for himself. Well if the murder interested his nosy auntie, he was going to tell her everything he knew. _Almost_ everything.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The mood at the evening briefing was lighter than usually. Obviously, the team thought Sivajothi would shed light on the case, if he wasn't the murderer himself. Vera had to curb their enthusiasm by reminding them that he had denied any involvement in the murder and that up to this point there was no clear indication he had lied on that point. Joe had disappeared she didn't know where but Holly was there with fresh information about Lady Edwina Morton-Meyers.

'What did you find, my lovely?'

'Edwina Margaret Mary dowager baroness Morton-Meyers,' she started,' is 73 years old. She's the daughter of the late Lord Whitemore. She was educated in the best public schools and went on to study medicine at Barts but stopped before graduating to marry Lord Morton-Meyers. They had three children, two boys and a girl. Her husband died five years ago of a heart attack. The Whitemore and the Juniper families were close and Edwina has known Randolph Juniper since childhood. They got on well and at some point it seems there were some talks about a marriage but Juniper finally married Lady Constance Mary Pebbleworth.'

'They married for love?' Vera asked, pretty certain of the answer.

'Apparently the parents arranged everything. She was a better catch than Edwina; she was an only child and she brought vast lands and a considerable fortune. Edwina had two brothers and three sisters and her dowry was less interesting.'

'How did Edwina react to the wedding?'

'She was abroad when the marriage happened, she was doing a six-month internship at Johns Hopkins and only found out when she came back. She gave up her studies soon afterwards and married Lord Morton-Meyers, who had been courting her for a while without much success.'

'Abandoned, betrayed…Why the hell did she stick around Juniper after that? She must have been completely smitten to forgive him.'

'Marriages of convenience are common in the aristocracy,' Holly ventured, 'maybe she just resigned herself.'

'Mmm…' Vera pouted, 'everything's possible with them lot. And after their respective marriages, they stayed in touch?'

'Yes, they remained close. The families saw one another frequently and Randolph Juniper is the godfather of her eldest son. After her husband's death, she was seen more often at Claptom House where she helped run the house.'

'Until Victoria arrived.'

'Yes. Edwina tried to stick around but Victoria made it clear she intended to run the house alone.'

'Two women, the young and the old, fighting over a man and his estate…Interesting.'

'I talked to several people who had seen them together and it was clear they didn't like each other.'

'I'm going to pay her a visit. There are some questions I want to ask her personally. Anyone knows where Joe is?'

Everybody shook their head.

'All right. Let's call it a day. Holly, that was good work.'

'Thanks, ma'am.'

Vera went back into her office and closed her door. She had more thinking to do and a difficult decision to take.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vera was seated by the fireplace in her house on the hill. The night was chilly but a good fire was blazing in the hearth. Wrapped up warmly in an old dressing gown, she was drinking her soup directly from the bowl. She thought about the phone call she had received after the meeting and the proposition she had made. _The next forty-eight hours promise to be interesting_ , she mused. She had packed her suitcase for a two-day stay south of the Tyne, in the unfamiliar environment of the aristocracy. Tommy Lynley had called her to say a friend of his had some information about Randolph Juniper that she may like to hear, and had offered her to stay at his place. She had accepted his invitation. It was unorthodox for a police officer to stay at the house of a witness but, strictly speaking, it was not forbidden by the procedure. What was not acceptable was to ask the aforementioned witness to assist her with the questioning of a suspect. Yet she had done it nonetheless; she had asked Lynley to come and see Lady Morton-Meyers with her. She needed someone who could see through the stiff-upper-lip attitude of the baroness and who was more suitable for the task than the eighth earl of Asherton?

The sound of an engine and the lights of a car drew her to the window. She recognized Joe's car and opened her door to let him enter.

'Where have you been?' she asked by way of greetings.

'Good evening to you.'

He ignored her glare and went to the fireplace where he offered the palms of his hands to the flames. Vera returned to her chair and her bowl of soup.

'Want anything to drink? I've some beers in the fridge.'

'I don't say no. You want one?'

'Got everything I need,' she replied, lifting a half-empty bottle of beer.

Joe opened the fridge and noticed it was empty but for a leftover of greasy chicken wings.

'When are you going to take care of yourself?' he told her off. 'You know what the doctor said: you should eat more healthily.'

'That's chicken!' she protested.

'Swimming in a sea of grease,' he retorted as he sat on a chair in front of her, a bottle of beer in his hand.

Vera gave a shrug and put her now empty bowl at her feet.

 _I may as well talk to a brick wall._ Joe was disheartened. Despite her frequent outbursts of temperament, he liked his superior and was upset to see her neglecting her health.

'To answer your question of earlier, I was looking for some information about Mr Alistair Pennyworth,' he said, changing the subject.

'And?'

'The crop is rather bad, I'm afraid, but here's what I have found. Alistair Bruce Pennyworth was born 28 years ago in Johannesburg, the only child of Peter and Alma Pennyworth. The Pennyworth's are an old, relatively wealthy aristocratic family but Alistair wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father had left England several years before, after his addiction to gambling had left him unable to honour his debts. His family had grown tired of bailing him out and they had broken with him. In South Africa they lived poorly as Pennyworth senior used to drink away almost everything he earned. The mother didn't work; she had always been frail and her pregnancy had taken away the rest of her forces. She died when Alistair was only just a child. Eventually, Alistair's father died of alcoholism almost ten years ago.'

'A very Dickensian story.'

'It does improve a bit. After his father's death, Pennyworth held different jobs. I talked to one of his former employers who was happy with his work but Pennyworth wanted to start a business of his own. That's what he did three years ago with a childhood friend, Tim Fallon. It was not a big business but they both lived on it. Fallon died in a car crash eighteen months ago in Lesotho. Pennyworth was seriously injured. He stayed in hospital and afterwards in a rehabilitation centre for more than a year. He tried to renew contact with his father's family then but there was only one member still alive, an old maid named Henrietta Pennyworth, an aunt of his father's. She was happy to learn she wasn't the last of the Pennyworth's and invited him to come and stay with her in England. She paid for his travel, and he arrived in December last year.'

'Anything suspicious about him?'

'He has no criminal record, no debt, his business was entirely legal, his passport is valid. I couldn't find anything on the social networks, though, he has no Facebook page, no Instagram account…'

'I don't have one either.'

Joe smiled.

'With all due respect, you're not from the same generation; his is highly connected. But the fact that I didn't find anything may simply means he uses an alias.'

'Any chance he met our victim before last week-end?'

'He left Africa for the first time to come and live with his great-aunt. He knew nobody in England and his social life is limited due to his bad leg. I found no indication he knew Lady Victoria before last week.'

'So, we have nothing against him?'

'Absolutely nothing.'

Vera sighed and finished her bottle.

'I'm leaving Kerbb in charge for two days,' she finally said matter-of-factly.

Joe raised an eyebrow.

'Why?'

'I'm going to London to talk to someone who seems to know some interesting facts about Lord Randolph Juniper. I'm also going to talk to Lady Morton-Meyers again. There are several points I'd like to clarify with her.'

'Who's coming with you?'

'I'm old enough to travel on my own. I'm sure Kerbb will keep you all busy while I'm away.'

'But…' Joe started.

'It's late,' Vera cut him,' and my train leaves early tomorrow morning.'

To support her words, she yawned ostentatiously.

'All right,' Joe conceded defeat. 'I hear you loud and clear.'

He got up and added:

'But if you need help…'

'I'll call you. Off you go, now, or your wife will have you sleep on the sofa.'

She waved him away and he left reluctantly. As he drove away, Joe had the bad feeling that Vera was hiding something from him.


	14. Chapter 13

Vera's taxi stopped in front of Tommy's house in Eaton Terrace shortly after 11 o'clock. His townhouse was the first of a line of big white-façade-black-gate houses. The street was calmer in this part of London and quieter. A row of trees on each side of the road would bring a welcome patch of greenery in the summer but so early in the year the trees were bare and offered no protection to a group of sparrows alighted on their branches. Vera rummaged in the pocket of her coat in search of a biscuit. She had taken several to eat in the train but she hadn't eaten them all – Joe would have been proud. She crumbled the biscuit at the foot of a tree for the birds then climbed the flight of stairs to Lynley's door. She noticed the old coat of arms engraved next to the door and the black and white marble of the doorstep. The perfectly polished brass knocker was sparkling brilliantly. She knocked and a few seconds later the door opened. Vera came in as the swallows began to fight over the crumbs.

A young man with thick-lensed spectacles took her coat and her suitcase and directed her to the drawing-room on her right. _Lord Asherton and Miss Havers were out but wouldn't be long now, would DI Stanhope like to drink something in the meantime?_ She gladly accepted and a few seconds later she had in her hand a glass of deliciously thirst-quenching beer. She studied the room she was in: high-ceilinged, with light-green walls, an oak parquet, and genuine antiques, its style was perfect for an aristocratic house but Vera found it cold and impersonal. Nothing in the room told her anything about the inhabitants of the house except an on-going game of chess on a small table and a photography of Lynley and Havers by the window. Strangely enough it made her think of her house. Of course hers was much simpler but like here there were few things in it that reflected her personality. It used to be her father's house and since she had inherited it and came to live there she had made very few changes. It was probably the same for Lynley: he had inherited this townhouse and hadn't bothered to imprint his style on it. Vera wondered if this would change now that Barbara Havers would live there permanently. The front door opened and she heard two voices, one male and one female. Lynley and Havers were home.

'I can't believe they need so many things!' Barbara said, putting her anorak on the coat peg.

'It's normal; the Social Services need to be sure we can take care of Lily,' Tommy replied in a calming voice.

'They're only interested in the material part! How much we earn, how big is our house! They didn't ask about how we envision our lives with her, what we believe in, what values we want to inculcate in her.'

'I'm sure that will come in time, Barbara. This is a long process and we're only at the beginning.'

'I wish she were already our daughter,' Barbara sighed.

Tommy took her in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head.

'Don't be downhearted, darling, it'll be alright. We just have to be patient and answer all the queries from the Social Services. I'll go and see my solicitor this afternoon to prepare all the documents related to Howenstow.'

'I thought you were going to drive DI Stanhope to see Alice.'

'That was my idea until I saw the list of documents to supply to the Social Services. The adoption process will be long enough without wasting time on our side. Maybe you could drive Vera?'

'Yeah, sure; it's not as if I had a wedding to prepare.'

Tommy looked at her and smiled.

'I'm sure you'd rather spend the afternoon with Alice than deal with the caterer.'

'Anything but the caterer!' Barbara exclaimed with feigned horror.

They laughed and kissed. A discreet cough coming from the kitchen direction told them that Charlie Denton was trying to capture their attention. Reluctantly, Tommy let go of Barbara.

'Yes, Charlie.'

'DI Stanhope has arrived, m'lord, she's in the drawing room.'

'Perfect. Is this her suitcase?' Tommy asked, noticing a battered brown suitcase near the stairs.

'It is, m'lord. I will bring it upstairs to her bedroom once I finish the preparation of the lunch.'

'Thank you, Charlie.' He looked at Barbara. 'Shall we go and see our guest?'

'After you, m'lord,' she teasingly replied.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On the train Vera had thought about the best way to bring DI Thomas Lynley to cooperate with her. She had rapidly concluded that nothing less that total frankness would do. Lynley would expect her to play fair and to let him know at least the broad lines of the inquiry, and to be honest this suited Vera best. How could Lynley help her grill Lady Morton-Meyers if he didn't know what her team had discovered so far? Furthermore, despite what she had told Kerbb, she didn't think for a minute that Lynley or Havers had anything to do with the murder of Victoria Juniper. They had never been to her house, hadn't had access to her bedroom at the hotel and it was highly improbable that she would have accepted a capsule from any of them. For all those reasons, Vera, upon learning that Barbara would come with her to see Lady Alice, had decided to let the couple of detectives in on the secrets of the inquiry. The talk lasted all lunch and the best part of an hour afterwards, interrupted here and there by pertinent questions, and punctuated by valuable remarks that reinforced Vera's conviction that she had made the right choice. When Havers' old Mini stopped in front of the imposing porch of Lady Vivian Hall, Vera knew she could rely on the sergeant from New Scotland Yard as she would have on Joe Ashworth.

A stern-looking butler ushered them to a winter garden at the back of the house. Entirely made of glass except for its structure of wrought iron, it offered a superb view over the gardens and housed a luxuriant vegetation: succulent and annual plants thrived along a collection of orchids. Dark greens, bright oranges, delicate pinks delighted the eyes while scents, sometimes heady sometimes faint, filled the air. A wicker deckchair and its thick white and yellow stripe cushion were skillfully placed to offer the best view and Barbara was very much tempted to wait for Vera there but the butler insisted that Lady Alice was waiting for her guests a little bit further, and Barbara had no other option but to follow him. Hidden from view behind two lush banana trees in giant pots, were a round white wrought iron table and four chairs. Lady Alice got up when she saw her visitors. Clad in a bright yellow dress, she looked like a giant chick left alone in the jungle; Barbara bit her lips not to burst out laughing. Leaning heavily on a walking cane, Alice greeted Vera with a firm handshake and planted two kisses on Barbara's cheeks.

'I heard congratulations were _de rigueur_ , my dear Barbara.'

Barbara blushed.

'Thank you. I don't realize yet. We've been rather busy since Tommy proposed and the enormity of what I agreed to hasn't sunk in yet.'

Alice laughed:

'Wait till Daze hands you Howenstow's keys and all the domestic employees turn to you for the running of the house.'

Barbara blemished.

'I can't…I'm not ready to run Howenstow,' she replied, suddenly panicking, 'I'm only just beginning to get my bearings there!'

'Don't worry, I'm pulling your leg,' Alice said, putting a soothing hand on Barbara's arm, 'Daze will certainly be glad to have some help but she will let you find your feet first. Besides, it's not so terrible. You're smart, used to speak with authority, and you know what you want. You'll do nicely.'

'I hope so.'

'I'm sure you will, Barbara, but DI Stanhope isn't here to discuss your future as Lady Asherton. Do sit down and make yourself comfortable. Mr. Powell, can you bring us some tea and something to eat?'

'Yes, milady.'

The butler turned heels and left the room in silence.

'That's something I got used to very rapidly when I became a Lady,' Alice told Barbara,' being obeyed. Though it proved more difficult with my husband.'

The three women laughed.

'So, what do you want to know DI Stanhope?'

'Everything you can tell me about Lord Randolph Juniper. We did our research and I have a good idea of the man he is in public but I'd like to know how he really is.'

'You're correct in assuming there's more to him than meets the eye.'

'How did you meet?'

'Oh, the usual way, he was an acquaintance of an acquaintance of my husband's. Aristocracy is a small world, and we usually go to the same social events so everybody knows everybody, that's inevitable. I became friend with his wife, his first wife, Lady Constance Mary.'

Alice stopped talking when her butler came back with the tea and some fresh home-baked biscuits and cakes. She frowned when he put in front of her a cup of camomile tea.

'What's this?' she asked, indignant.

'Order of your doctor, milady, no tea.'

'Damned quack!' she swore under her breath.

She took a biscuit but the butler coughed discreetly.

'May I remind your Ladyship that the doctor strongly advised you not to eat pastry?'

'This is not pastry, it's a biscuit!' she retorted and she bit into her biscuit with delight and a bit of provocation.

Powell, impassive in front of the peculiar logic of the old lady, simply shrugged and left.

'My doctor put me on a diet too,' Vera said, taking a couple of cakes before passing the plate to Barbara who helped herself generously. 'He said I'm too fat, it's not good for my heart.'

'With a job like ours with no fixed working hours and long shifts, it's not easy to eat healthily,' Barbara concurred. 'And not fun.'

'I know I'm prone to gout bout,' Alice added,' and it's unpleasant enough without having to deprive myself of the pleasure of the table.'

Having all agreed that doctors were killjoys who asked impossible things from their patients without considering their lives and what they liked, Vera put the conversation back on its track.

'You were saying that you were a friend of the first Lady Juniper?'

'Yes,' Alice replied. 'She was a nice, sweet woman who's been unhappy all her life. She was the old-fashioned type of aristocratic woman, born and bred to be a wife and a mother, to run a house and entertain her guests but not to think by herself or stand up to anybody. She was completely dominated by her husband. He controlled her completely, from the clothes she wore to the people she saw. She was totally submissive, without a will of her own, she had been totally broken by Randolph.'

'Was he violent?'

'Not physically as far as I know.'

'Did she fear him?' Vera wanted to know, happy to notice that Barbara had started taking note without her asking.

'Oh, yes, definitely, but I think she was even more afraid of her brother-in-law who was living under the same roof. She lived in constant fear, poor woman, particularly at the beginning of her marriage. I had the feeling she was somewhat better during her pregnancy but she suffered from terrible anxiety regarding the sex of the baby. She was obsessed with the need to produce an heir. When her son was born one could have thought things would improve further but no, they deteriorated again.'

'I know she was your friend so, please, excuse me for asking, but did she suffer from a mental illness?'

'I'm not a psychiatrist, Inspector, so I'm ill-equipped to answer your question but I would say no. She didn't have much character, and her upbringing surely didn't help, but that's not a disease. Moreover, when her brother-in-law died in a car accident, it was a real relief for her. She was much more relaxed after.'

'Was he threatening?'

Alice took her cane, unscrewed the knob and took out a long glass tube the shape of a lab test tube containing an amber liquid. She uncorked it and offered it to her guests:

'Do you want some whisky, dears? What I'm going to tell you is all very unsavoury.'

Barbara declined, she was driving; Vera was tempted but didn't want Barbara to imagine things so she declined too. Alice emptied her camomile tea at the feet of the nearest banana tree and poured a small amount of whisky in her cup.

'Don't tell Powell. He looks after my health and wants me to follow the doctor's prescription to the letter but I can't stand camomile tea.'

'That's a very clever hiding-place you have,' Barbara said.

'Isn't it? This cane was one of my Edward's favourites. He always took it with him when we went to the country-side. We used to walk a lot and he always had something heartening in it.'

She drained her cup in one gulp and took a mint candy to mask the odour of the alcohol. She started talking again.

'Randolph Juniper had been seriously ill before he wed Constance Mary. Officially, it was a meningitis but my husband told me it was a severe case of mumps that left him sterile.'

'But he has a son,' Vera cut her rather abruptly.

'I'm going to tell you something I never said to anybody, Inspector. When Constance Mary became very ill, she told me her secret. She used to be afraid of her brother-in-law because he came into her bed.'

'He used to rape her?'

Alice nodded.

'And her husband knew it?'

'I would go so far as to say he encouraged it. He needed an heir and he couldn't make it himself.'

'So he let his brother rape his wife?' Barbara was horrified.

'That explains why she was relieved when he died,' Vera added.

'I don't know who's worse: Juniper or his brother.'

'They are both equally despicable, my dear Barbara,' Alice replied,' and I'm afraid there's no way to prove my saying.'

'No, there isn't,' Vera concurred. 'Even if we could prove that Randolph Juniper isn't the biological father of his son, there's no way to prove the rape. How does he treat his son, by the way?'

'As if he were truly his son. Which doesn't mean very tenderly. But he's a Juniper and for Randolph it's all that matters.'

'And if he weren't a Juniper?' Vera asked.

'He and his mother would have paid it dearly.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vera wasted no time in calling Billy Wainwright and requesting a paternity test on Victoria's foetus. Then she called Joe Ashworth. In a few words she told him what Lady Alice had said.

'Search everywhere, Joe, but we must know if Juniper's sterility is real or if it's just a rumour. This could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for in this inquiry. If Victoria's baby wasn't his and he knew it, who knows how he reacted.'

'Do you think he could have killed her? If everything Lady Alice told you is true, he didn't kill his first wife, on the contrary he made her son his heir.'

'Because that's what he wanted, Joe, an heir! And he has it. He didn't need Victoria's baby.'

'But…'

'Oh, stop arguing, for God's sake! Just do as you're told!'

She hung up abruptly.

'Why does he always question my orders?' she asked Barbara who was parking her car in front of Tommy's house. 'A sergeant doesn't question the orders of an inspector! You don't question your superior's orders, Barbara, do you?'

'Only if the necessity arises; when he's away with the fairies, or has a bout of know-it-all-ism.'

'And it happens often?'

'His opinion and mine differ on the subject,' Barbara answered cautiously.

Vera chuckled.

'I like a woman of character.'

'You wouldn't say that if you were my guv'.'

They found Tommy in his study. Barbara sat down with a flop and said loudly:

'I'm sick of your lot! You stop at nothing to secure your succession. It's the only thing that matters: the bloody family line!'

'Hold your horses, sweetheart!' he protested. 'I don't know what you're talking about but you know me better than that.'

Barbara frowned at him and Tommy felt he was being tested. Luckily he passed and she softened.

'All right, you're not like that.'

'Why don't you tell me what's going on?'

She stole a glance at Vera who acquiesced.

'It's disgusting!' Lynley exclaimed when Barbara finished her explanations. 'I understand your reaction better. How could he…? Are you sure it happened?'

'Alice seems sure of herself, Tommy,' Barbara replied, 'and I tend to believe her.'

'We're going to check everything we can,' Vera added.

'Do you think he killed Victoria because she was pregnant?'

'I don't know but it could be a motive.'

'He could have divorced.'

'But he would have risked the revelation of his infertility,' Barbara replied.

'We must talk to him,' Lynley concluded.

'That's too soon, Tommy,' Vera replied. 'First we check, then we talk to him. For the moment, I'd like to review with you the questions we're going to ask Lady Morton-Meyers. There's some questions I'd like to add to our list now.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They departed for Claptom House after breakfast the next morning and arrived there shortly after 10:30. It was an imposing Elizabethan building surrounded by a park of several acres. After having shown her warrant card to an impassive butler, Vera and Tommy were introduced in a drawing-room on the first floor of the house. The oak parquet creaked under their feet and the walls were red and covered with master paintings, mainly portraits of Lord Juniper's ancestors. Vera went to examine them. Despite the sumptuous clothes and the inevitable embellishments from the painter, she found most of them ugly. Hollow eyes and a hooked nose seemed to be a feature of the family since the first Lord Juniper. The in-laws were a tad better-looking but looked as haughty and cold-hearted as the others.

'A bit creepy for my taste,' Vera told Lynley, showing him a painting of the second Lord Juniper running an enemy through with his sword.

Tommy put his reading spectacles on and examined the painting.

'I see what you mean, Vera. The worst for me being that, as the Juniper's supported Lancaster, and the Lynley's York, that may well be someone from my family this Lord Juniper is so happily murdering.'

'One would have expected an Oxford graduate to understand better the symbolism of this painting,' a severe female voice said behind their backs.

'I'm first and foremost a police officer,' Lynley replied calmly, 'and I find all depictions of violence disturbing, Lady Morton-Meyers.'

She was wearing a grey wool suit, a purple blouse, and black flat heels. She looked starchy. Her sour tone, her severe outfit reminded Vera of an old headmistress who liked caning too much.

Lynley took the emaciated hand the old baroness was holding out and bowed to her. Edwina went to sit on a red velvet divan and gestured to Tommy and Vera to take a seat. She waited until they were installed to speak again.

'I must say I'm surprised to see you here, Lord Asherton. I thought you couldn't be a member of the investigation team, having been at that awful hotel with the rest of us.'

'The facts cleared DI Lynley,' Vera replied, using Tommy's rank deliberately.

'So, now you're working on this case too?'

'No, I'm not,' he answered with a polite smile,' but DI Stanhope thought I could help her clarify some points.'

Edwina nodded in silence and Vera held her breath. The situation was totally irregular and if the baroness refused to talk to her in presence of Lynley there would be nothing she could do, he'd have to leave the room. Luckily for her, the old lady didn't raise any objection.

'I was surprised to hear you wanted to talk to me again, Inspector,' she finally said. 'I've already told you everything I knew.'

'And I appreciate your help, Lady Morton-Meyers, but you know how it is, during an investigation some details always arise and we have to close all the loops.'

'I understand. I heard that you caught Lord Juniper's chauffeur. Has he confessed yet?'

'Not yet and, so far, we've nothing against him except the car theft.'

'Is Lord Juniper here?' Lynley asked suddenly.

'No, he's in London for the day,' Edwina replied, a bit unsettled by the abrupt change of subject. 'He had some business to attend. Did you want to talk to him?'

'Oh no,' Tommy said, 'that was pure curiosity. I didn't think he would be back in business so soon after leaving Holy Island.'

'Keeping his mind busy is his way of coping. Besides, this house is full of memories of Victoria and I think he doesn't feel comfortable here yet. Victoria loved this place so much; he wants her to be buried here. We're waiting for the police to give her body back.'

'That's very kind of you to support him through this terrible time, Edwina. I'm sure he's happy to have a true friend by his side.'

'That's important for me too. Randolph and I have been friends for most of our lives.'

'Did you notice any change in him, lately?' Vera asked.

'What do you mean?'

'Did he look anxious or tired? Has he been ill?'

'No, he has an iron constitution. He has high blood pressure but that's more or less hereditary in his family.'

'You're well aware of his health,' Vera said with a smile.

'Of course, I told you we've been friends since childhood.'

'More than friends at one point, no?'

'I thought you were here to ask serious questions, Inspector, not for gossip,' Edwina replied sharply.

She looked as if she would bring the meeting to its end, so Lynley tried to defuse the situation.

'Lady Morton-Meyers, DI Stanhope certainly meant no offense. It's only natural that two young people, who share some common interests and live in the same environment would be attracted to one another. That's the oldest story in the world.'

'But he preferred a better match,' Vera added cruelly.

'He had no choice,' Edwina retorted curtly,' it's was his father's decision. Randolph tried to make him change his mind but he was a stubborn man.'

'Or so he told you,' Vera insisted.

'Randolph's a man of honour, he never lied to me. I don't expect you to understand; it was a long time ago and things were different then, we respected our parents' decisions. Besides, Randolph's father was very ill at that time, he died soon after the wedding, and Randolph didn't have the heart to oppose his father's last wish.'

 _And risk being disinherited so close to the title,_ Vera thought.

'You remained close nonetheless.'

'We remained friends, and I insist on this word, Inspector.'

'He could have divorced after his father's death, why didn't he do it? You could have been together.'

'Divorce? That would have been unseemly.'

'If you say so,' Vera said, unconvinced,' but then, after many years, when you're both free of any ties, instead of marrying you he sets his cap at a woman young enough to be your grand-daughter. It must have infuriated you.'

'I was surprised, things went very fast, but I was happy for him.'

'Oh enough! Don't take me for a fool. Here's the man you've loved since your teenage years, the man who'd said, truly or not, that he would have married you if not for his father, that man, now freed from his previous marriage, prefers a much younger woman over you. I'd have wanted to kill him. Or her.'

'That's not how I was brought up,' Edwina replied arrogantly.

'It would have been easy for you.' Vera, went on, unmoved. 'You trained as a doctor, and you're well versed in pharmacology, all you needed was an occasion to tamper with Lady Victoria's medicines and by a stroke of luck she suffered from a condition that left her vulnerable. She was so ill she accepted your help and granted you access to her bedroom. Tampering with one of her capsules was a piece of cake for you and you only had to wait till she took the deadly dose.'

'I strongly deny everything you said!' Edwina protested. 'Your insinuations are inacceptable. Victoria was a little hussy who had Randolph wrapped around her little finger, so to speak, but I never hurt her.'

'You must have been scared when he fell ill,' Lynley said suddenly.

'What?'

'We've been told Randolph had been seriously ill before his wedding with Lady Constance Mary.'

'That's correct. We feared for his life,' Edwina replied drily.

'That was mumps, wasn't it?'

'No, it was a meningitis.'

'You were reading medicine at the time. Did you treat him?'

'I was abroad when it happened and, in any case, his condition required a more experienced doctor.'

'How old was he?'

'Around 24-year-old, I don't remember exactly.'

'Mumps would have been dangerous for a grown-up man,' Lynley went on. 'There's a risk of infertility.'

'Yes, but it was a meningitis,' Edwina said again, stubbornly.

'And you would know, you were a medical student,' Vera said with a smile, 'the symptoms would have been different.'

'Exactly.'

'Do you remember Randolph's brother?' Lynley asked.

'Yes, he was younger than Randolph but he died years ago. He was a rather handsome man, not particularly clever though. Randolph's always been the brains of the family.'

Lynley got up and went to examine a painting of a young man in a seventeen-century outfit.

'Do you know the story of my ancestor, the second earl of Asherton, Lady Morton-Meyers?'

'How could I?'

'Yes, how could you? It's not something we like to talk about with strangers. He had particular friendships, you see, nowadays we would say he was gay. Completely, totally gay. He married the daughter of an earl because that's what was expected of him but the contact of a female body disgusted him. Nonetheless he did his duty and they had a son. Seeing he had an heir he swore he wouldn't sleep with his wife again. The countess had five other children though, three of whom lived into adulthood, including the boy who became the third earl of Asherton.'

'How could…?'

Lynley turned towards the two women and smiled.

'The earl had a brother who didn't share his dislike of women. The countess, deserted by her husband, fell in love with her brother-in-law and bore his children.'

'A Juniper would have never accepted that!' Edwina exclaimed, scandalized.

'Why not? The succession was ensured without the earl having to force his nature and sleep with his wife. The said wife, by the way, seemed to have found happiness in the arms of her brother-in-law. I found some of their letters in an old secretaire; they were clearly in love.'

'That's disgusting!'

'I don't agree. I'd rather be the descendant of a love child than of a rape,' Tommy replied sharply, his voice suddenly icy. 'Randolph is sterile, he's been sterile for years and you know it. There's no way he could have begotten his son.'

Edwina blemished.

'Constance Mary did her duty.'

'Her duty? _Lie back and think of England_? She didn't do her duty; she's been repeatedly raped by her brother-in-law so the Juniper line could go on.'

'You've no proof of that! It's slander!'

'You know I'm right. Ask yourself what Constance Mary must have felt, forced to live under the same roof as her tormentor, knowing her husband willingly abandoned her to the depravity of his brother. Imagine her terror when she heard him coming at night in her bedroom, coming into bed near her, taking off her clothes, forcing himself inside her.'

'Stop it! Stop it!'

Edwina put her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block Tommy's words.

'Randolph knew everything, it was probably his decision in the first place. He sacrificed his wife to have a son and he would have sacrificed you just the same had you married him.'

By then the old lady was crying profusely.

Lynley went to a sideboard and poured a large amount of brandy in a glass he handed to Edwina. She took it between her shaking hands.

'I'm sorry, Edwina,' Tommy said gently, 'but you had to face the reality. I know it's hard, I know you love him but you can't protect him anymore. I'm sure you've no secret for each other so I want you to do something honourable and tell us how Randolph reacted when he found out Victoria was pregnant.'


	15. Chapter 14

Author's note. A short chapter before what will probably be the last chapter of this story.

* * *

'Yes, she said he didn't take the news well,' Vera told Joe on the phone. She was in Lynley's car still parked in front of Claptom House. 'He knew his wife had lovers but he didn't accept her pregnancy. Apparently, he believes in that old pure-blood shit and didn't want to raise a bastard of unknown origin.'

'He could have divorced her. With a paternity test showing the child wasn't his, the judge would have been nice to him.'

'A divorce would have been improper,' Vera replied, mimicking the posh tone of Lady Morton-Meyers. 'Besides, it would have raised other questions,' she added seriously.

'Such as who is young Juniper's father.'

'Among others.'

'Did you talk to Lord Juniper?'

'Not yet. He's not at home for the moment and I'd like to have more cards up my sleeve when I talk to him.'

'So we clear Sivajothi?'

'Yes, the key word in this case is premeditation. That's what bothered me when I talked to him. How could he have known she was about to dump him? No, he didn't kill her.'

'I did some research on Juniper's illness but that was a long time ago. His doctor has long died. I managed to track down his successor who's retired in Spain but he doesn't know anything about Juniper's illness. There was nothing in his record.'

'That's hardly surprising. I think the family hid his illness and his sterility.'

'So what's next?'

'I want you to go to Lady Morton-Meyers' house with a forensic team. Edwina never renounced her interest in chemistry and she still has a lab in her house where she keeps different dangerous chemicals, including strychnine. Interestingly enough, Juniper developed an interest in her research after he learnt Victoria was pregnant and she showed him her lab. I want SOCO to do their things in the lab and find if Juniper helped himself. Meanwhile, we should have received the result of the paternity test on Victoria's baby I ordered to confirm her husband wasn't the father and then we'll talk to him.'

'Who we?'

'What do you mean, who we?'

'You and me or you and Kerbb? Or will it be you and Lynley?'

'Lynley?'

'I'm not stupid! I know you didn't want me to come with you so you could work with him. No wait… You can't work with him! He's a suspect!'

'Don't be silly, he's not a suspect but I know where the limit is and I'm not going to jeopardize the conviction of Juniper by questioning him with Lynley. His lawyer would be too happy to shout at the legal irregularity.'

'So it'll be Kerbb?'

'You're cute when you're jealous,' she teased him. 'Nah, you great halfwit, it'll be you and me.'

'In Kimmerston or in London?'

Vera thought the question over a little bit.

'We'll play at home,' she said finally.

'When are you coming back?'

'I'm taking the train this afternoon.'

 _If Tommy drives me back to London in time,_ she added for herself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On their way back to his car, Lynley had spotted a tall and lonely figure heading for the garden. He had recognized Juniper's son, Clarence, and had followed him. The two men had met once before and in Tommy's recollection Clarence Juniper was a broad-shouldered, energetic man nearly ten years older than him whose infectious good humour made up for an unattractive face. But when Tommy caught up with him on the bank of a little man-made lake, he was shocked to see that Clarence was only the shadow of his former self. Sat on a stone bench, staring into space, his body was only an empty shell. Cupped in his hand was a white lily whose petals he was caressing absent-mindedly. Where he had found such a flower at that time of the year Lynley had no idea but he recognized Victoria's favourite flower and he knew without a doubt who Clarence was mourning.

'I'm sorry for your loss, Clarence,' Tommy said, squeezing lightly the shoulder of the man.

Clarence jumped; lost in his thoughts he hadn't heard Tommy arrive. He looked at him with eyes full of surprise and slightly out of focus, then he recognized him, and smiled sadly.

'Thank you, Asherton,' he simply said.

Tommy sat down on the bench and remained silent. He didn't want to push Clarence and if his years in the police had taught him something it was that few people were comfortable with the silence. And as expected it didn't take long for Clarence to break it.

'It was her favourite spot in the garden. She liked to come here and contemplate the water. Since she had visited Monet's garden in France she wanted to grow water lilies in the lake.'

'I didn't know she liked impressionism.'

'She liked beauty and art.'

'That's true, I remember she went to Florence to study arts.'

'I wish I had met her before. Things would have been so easier.'

'Am I right to assume that by _before_ you mean before she married your father?' Lynley asked softly.

'Is that so evident?'

'I know how it feels to lose the woman you love.'

'I feel dead inside.'

'You're still in shock. The numbness will pass…and you'll wish it didn't.'

'Highly encouraging,' Clarence said gloomily.

'I won't lie to you, Clarence, it'll get worse before it gets better.'

'I don't think it will ever get better.'

'I know that's how it feels right now but eventually you'll be fine.'

'Eventually? How did you survive, Asherton?'

'I don't know. I've been lucky, I suppose.'

'And you're fine, now?'

'I am,' Tommy replied, smiling, 'fine and happy. I'm getting married again in a fortnight to an extraordinary woman.'

'I'm happy for you.'

'Thank you, Clarence.'

They remained silent for a while before Clarence spoke again:

'The worst is I can't mourn her like I'd want to. She was my stepmother, not my wife. That's ridiculous, Asherton! She was younger than me, how could I ever treat her like my stepmother!'

'I don't know.'

'You must find me pathetic. I'm married and I've two kids but I fell in love with my father's wife.'

'I don't judge you; we don't choose whom we fall in love with.'

'I lost my head. The first time I met her, I completely lost my head. It was like I was a young man again. These feelings, I had never had them before. I made a marriage of convenience, Asherton, it was a business deal between two families, nothing more.'

'Did Victoria respond to your love?'

'Can I trust you, Asherton?'

'I'm afraid it's a bit late to ask that question.'

'I suppose you're right. Yes, to my great surprise and greater joy, she responded to my love.'

'Yet she remained married to your father.'

Clarence sighed heavily.

'You met my father; how do you think he'd have reacted if his wife had divorced him to marry his son?'

'Not well.'

'That's putting it lightly, Asherton; he would have disinherited me.'

'You're his only heir!'

'You forget I've a son. He would have made him his heir.'

'Would it have been so terrible?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'If I had to renounce everything to marry Barbara, my title, my rights on Howenstow and the estate, everything I inherited from my father, I'd do it gladly. She's more important that everything I own.'

'And you'd live the middle-class life in a rented flat in a housing estate?'

'Why not? Lots of people live like that.'

'They're not like us! They've always lived like that, not us! You may find me vain but I'm not ready to renounce my lifestyle and Victoria wasn't either.'

'You both wanted the money,' Tommy summarized.

'Don't make it sound sordid; I merely want my due.'

Tommy was happy Barbara wasn't there. After Alice's story about Juniper senior, Juniper junior's confession would have been the last straw.

'Are you sure your father didn't know about Victoria and you?'

'Absolutely.'

They fell silent again. After a few minutes, Tommy asked softly:

'Did you know Victoria was pregnant?'

'Yes, she told me.'

'I'm terribly sorry, Clarence, but I have to ask: do you think you could be the father of her child?'

Juniper jerked his head back.

'Of course, I was the father! Who do you think she was? A slut?'

'She was your father's wife.'

'He's old, nearly impotent. She entertained him with the idea the baby was his child but she told me it was mine and I had no reason to doubt her words. We wanted that child, we did everything to have it.'

'Did you know she saw other men?'

'How dare you?!'

Clarence jumped on his feet and stood menacingly over Tommy.

'I'll make you regret your words!''

'These are not my words, Clarence,' Lynley replied, getting up to face the other man, 'these are established facts.'

'Established by whom?'

'The police.'

'They try to conceal their incompetence by sullying her memory. It's disgusting.'

'It's not because you don't like the idea of Victoria sleeping with other men that it didn't happen, Clarence. Reality can be harsh.'

'I don't hold you back, Asherton, I think we've nothing more to say to each other.'

'It seems not.'

Slowly Lynley went back to his car.

'Since when do you run after men, Tommy?' Vera asked when she saw him.

'I didn't want to die an ignoramus.'

Vera chuckled. She waited until they were on their way out to ask him further.

'Did you enjoy your moment alone with young Juniper?'

'I found it very interesting. Clarence Juniper and Victoria were lovers.'

Vera whistled.

'She slept with the father _and_ the son? This young lady was insatiable.'

'I would say cold-hearted and manipulative.'

'Why?'

'Because this way she secured her grip on the Juniper's wealth. Clarence did say that Victoria was interested in money though he thinks she genuinely loved him. He told me she didn't divorce Randolph to marry him because they wouldn't have had as much money and would have had to reduce their lifestyle, which neither of them wanted.

'Romanticism isn't what it used to be.'

'He also implied his own marriage wasn't happy, so I suppose he intended to wait for his father to pass away before divorcing his wife to live with Victoria.'

'This is not a family, it's a crocodile swamp!'

'And they prey on each other.'

'Does Randolph know his son played doctor with his wife?'

'Clarence says no. He thinks his father would have disinherited him in favour of his son had he known.'

'Do you think it's plausible?'

'I do, yes. Randolph Juniper is very old-fashioned…'

'I happened to notice,' she cut him.

'But do you realize what it means, Vera? He truly believes in his superiority over his servants, you can't deny there's a reek of colonialism in his exclusive use of Indian men as servants; over women, whom he thinks fit only to maintain a house and produce children; over anyone in this country not born in the aristocracy. He's vain and pretentious, and I don't think he could have faced the shame of an infidelity in this condition. He would have lost the face; he would have been the laughing stock of…well… everybody in this country. The tabloids would have run cover stories about the old Lord Juniper whose young wife shagged his son. He's not a softie, he wouldn't have taken this lightly.'

'Do you think Clarence could be the father of Victoria's baby?'

'He is sure he is.'

'You're not convinced.'

Tommy sighed heavily and answered with another question:

'Did Victoria herself know who was the father?'

'There's not much in common between Clarence Juniper and Arun Sivajothi.'

'Sivajothi seems convinced he cannot be the father.'

'Condom accidents do happen.'

'We'll know for sure when we have the results of the paternity test.'

'Yes, we'll know…' Vera replied dreamily.

Tommy looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

'We'll know,' Vera continued after a few seconds,' but Randolph Juniper didn't know. He had no means to know who the father of the baby was and if he had suspicions about Victoria and Sivajothi he may have dreaded the scandal of his wife giving birth to a mixed-race child. What do you think?'

'I think you may well have found the motive behind Victoria's murder,' Tommy answered, while manoeuvring his car to avoid a big puddle on the side road leaving Claptom House.

They soon reached the motorway and they stayed quiet until the outskirts of London.

'It was a nice story you told Edwina. Was it true?' Vera asked suddenly.

'What do you think?'

'I think it was well-timed.'

'Was it? Anyway, I'd rather you don't tell Barbara about it.'

'Are you afraid of her reaction?'

'I'd feel better if she never knew that story.'

'You're a coward, bonny lad.'

'I've grown excessively attached to my life.'

Vera laughed heartily.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was half past ten when Vera's train arrived at Newcastle station. Joe Ashworth was waiting for her on the platform. She frowned angrily at him when she saw him.

'What are you doing here? I told you to go to Edwina's house and search her lab!'

'Don't yell at me, Kerbb wanted to go there himself. He was getting restless since you'd cleared Sivajothi.'

'What are you waiting for? Make yourself useful!' Vera said, literally throwing her suitcase in Joe's arms.

'Anything to oblige', Joe said sarcastically but Vera wasn't listening. She was looking down the platform seemingly for something or someone which she noticed soon.

'Ah, there they are.'

Amid the crowd of people rushing out of the train in the hope of catching their bus or a taxi, Joe recognized the tall figure of Thomas Lynley. It took a little longer for him to realize that the smaller person by his side wrapped up snugly in a wool scarf and a hat was Barbara Havers.

'What are they doing here?' asked Joe, not too nicely.

'I cannot forbid them to travel,' Vera replied innocently.

'You said yourself they cannot be involved in this case.'

'I said Lynley won't question Juniper with me, I never said they couldn't be there.'

'What are you playing at?'

'I don't play, Joe, but it was Lynley who put me in contact with Lady Alice Rhys-Fitzwilliam who put us on Juniper's track and it was him again who persuaded Lady Morton-Meyers to tell us all she knew. I think it's only fair he sees the end of this case.'

'The end of this case? Don't you think it's premature to say that?'

Vera grinned at him.

'I summoned Lord Juniper to the station tomorrow afternoon.'

'Tomorrow?!'

Joe went white. Vera was already walking towards the exit of the station. She called him:

'Are you going to spend the night on this platform, Joe? We need to drive these two to their hotel before you bring me back home.'

'If it's not inconvenient, Sergeant,' said Lynley as he arrived by Joe's side,' we don't mind taking a taxi.'

'Er…no, no problem,' was all Joe could stutter before he pulled himself together and started trotting behind Vera.

On their way to the hotel, Vera received a phone call from Billy Wainwright.

'I've the result of the paternity test, Vera.'

'Hold on a minute, Billy, I'm putting you on speaker.'

In the car, everybody held their breath.

'The results are interesting,' Billy said,' I can confirm Randolph Juniper isn't the father of the baby but they do have some DNA in common.'

'What does that mean?' Vera asked.

'The father of the baby and Juniper are relatives.'

'Relatives? Like father and son? Nephew and uncle?'

'Not as close as father and son. Nephew and uncle is more likely but I cannot tell precisely.'

Vera and Tommy exchanged a look.

'Don't worry, Billy, for the moment we've all we need,' Vera said. 'Thank you and good night.'

'Night.'

'So, Clarence Juniper was right to assume Victoria was pregnant with his child,' Barbara said.

'Does that mean we have another suspect?' Joe asked with concern.

'No, I don't think he killed her,' Tommy replied. 'Randolph is still our main suspect.'

'And tomorrow I'll nab him,' Vera said decisively.


	16. Chapter 15

Author's note: When I started writing this chapter I read again the story from the start to be sure I didn't leave anything unanswered and I realized there were many mistakes (including some people changing name!) so I edited the whole story. It's been a very long process (I started in November) but finally it's done, complete with the new chapter that won't be the last finally. I updated all the chapters on the site so don't be surprised if you find some (minor) differences with the "old story" 😊.

* * *

The morning after Tommy and Barbara had a lie-in. They had agreed with Vera to meet her at the police station at one o'clock. Since Juniper wasn't due there before two o'clock they would have the time to talk about the latest developments of the case if there was any. In the taxi driving them to the police station, Barbara informed Tommy of a phone call she had received the previous afternoon.

'I didn't tell you yesterday but when you were at Claptom House, Alistair Pennyworth called me. He told me that the week-end on Holy Island had been too much for his leg and that he was in a lot of pain now. He must decline our invitation to our wedding, he thinks he won't be well enough to come.'

'You sound disappointed.'

'A bit. I like him and I think it's sad he won't be able to come because he's in pain.'

'Are you sure it's not an excuse not to come?'

'Why would he lie? You've spent too many years in the police, DI Lynley, you don't trust anybody anymore.'

'I'm sorry, Barbara, I still have a nagging doubt he's not totally sincere but you're going to say I'm jealous and I must admit I may be.'

He took her hand and she smiled at him.

'His aunt's house is on our way back to London,' she said, ' we could visit him. I'm sure he'll be happy to see us.'

'And you'll be happy to see him.'

'He really didn't sound well and…'

Barbara hesitated so Tommy pressed her to go on:

'Yes?'

'I don't have that many friends, I'd like to add Al to the list.'

'Al? You're at the pet name stage, now?'

'What's wrong with pet names?' Barbara replied defensively.

'Nothing, my love. I'm happy you made yourself a new friend.'

'I'm going to call him to tell him we're going to pay him a visit then.'

Tommy didn't recall agreeing to the visit but Barbara had obviously set her mind on it and he knew better than to contradict her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Joe Ashworth met them in the lobby of the police station and led them to the team office. Vera was locked in her office with DI Kerbb. The discussion seemed animated but courteous.

'What's Kerbb doing here?' Lynley asked.

'He's helping on the case; Lord Juniper's orders.'

Tommy raised an eyebrow. Joe went on:

'Juniper knows the Met Commissioner and he persuaded him we needed help from the Yard. Kerbb's supposed to be SIO but, up to now, he'd seemed happy to let DI Stanhope in command.'

'Let me guess, he's not as accommodating now that Juniper is the main suspect?' Barbara insinuated.

'Kerbb's a man of integrity,' Lynley replied, 'he won't stifle a case because the suspect has a lot of influence.'

'We'll know when he comes out of the inspector's office,' Joe said. He showed them the old black sofa the team used during the meetings, and added: 'You can sit here. They've been locked inside for half an hour already, it shouldn't be long now.'

'I won't complain about my office anymore,' Barbara told Tommy sotto voce. 'This place has not been refurbished since the mid-70's. The only thing missing is a purple carpet.'

Tommy considered the two-shade-of-blue squared wall, the cork board, and the dated beige plastic desks and could only agree with her.

About five minutes later, Vera and Kerbb went out. Vera came straight to Tommy and Barbara. She had a spring in her step and was beaming.

'It's not hard to guess who got the upper hand', Lynley whispered to Barbara.

Vera stopped in front of them and with her thumb indicated Kerbb.

'No need to make the introductions, I suppose,' Vera said.

'I know DI Kerbb,' Tommy replied.

'And who at the Met doesn't know the famous Lynley and Havers?' Kerbb answered with a smile. 'These two are as famous at the Yard as the Angel of the North here.'

Tommy saw the dark glance Barbara threw at Kerbb and feared for an instant that she'd deliver one of her sassy remarks that had gotten her into hot water so many times, but she managed to control herself and simply asked:

'Anything new?'

'Indeed,' Vera grinned.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lord Juniper arrived exactly on time, with his solicitor. Joe led them to the interview room, cautioned Juniper and waited with them. Kerbb, Tommy and Barbara squeezed up in the small observation room. A few minutes later, Vera rushed into the interview room, with some files tucked under one arm, and a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

Juniper gave a disdainful look at her old-fashioned dress, her purple loose-knit wool cardigan, and her trademark sandals.

'He doesn't like her sartorial style,' Lynley remarked, amused.

'In his defense, she does look like a country bumpkin,' Kerbb replied.

Barbara threw a look at Tommy's made-to-measure suit and Kerbb's classic suit and tie, and she became painfully aware of her red sneakers, brown corduroy trousers and threadbare marine jumper.

'He'll swallow back his arrogance when he wears the prison uniform,' she said drily, 'this country bumpkin is going to send him behind bars for the rest of his life.'

'We found your car and your chauffeur, Lord Juniper,' Vera said as an introduction.

'Is that why you made my client come all the way up here, Inspector?' the solicitor asked.

'I thought he would be happy to know,' she replied with a grin. 'And while you're here, there are other questions, I'd like to ask you, milord.'

'What's the point? You've Lady Victoria's killer,' the solicitor replied.

'You don't waste any time, do you! Sivajothi claims he's innocent.'

'Don't they always?'

'Most of the time, yes, but I happen to believe him.'

She put on the table a photo of a white powder.

'Do you know what it is, Lord Juniper?'

He had a quick look at the photo:

'I don't know. Salt, maybe?'

'Strychnine sulphate.'

'Strychnine? Is that what killed Victoria?'

'Yes. From what he found in her entrails, our pathologist estimates that she swallowed three quarter of a gram of strychnine. The poison had been put in one of her capsules. Do you know who had access to her drugs?'

'The pharmacist, of course. And then, her maid, I guess.'

'Where did your wife usually keep her drugs?'

'I don't know, I wasn't behind her all day long. In her bedroom, I suppose.'

'So, anyone who had access to her bedroom could have tampered with her capsules?'

'I suppose so.'

'How many people had access to her bedroom?'

'I don't know, I never kept count. She didn't lock her door, anyone could have entered.'

'The domestic staff?'

'Of course, the chamber maids have access to all the bedrooms.'

'And Lady Morton-Meyers?'

Juniper seemed surprised by the question and frowned as if in deep thoughts.

'Yes, I seem to remember that Lady Morton-Meyers went to her bedroom several times when Victoria wasn't well. But surely you don't think…'

'And Arun Sivajothi?' Vera went on, cutting him.

'He was my chauffeur, and he helped with our luggage. I suppose he could have gone to her bedroom to collect her suitcase, yes.'

'What about your wife's lovers? You told me about your particular arrangement.'

'And I told you that I didn't want to know who they were, that was part of our agreement. Victoria wouldn't have brought them to her bedroom.'

Juniper was adamant.

'Maybe not at your estate,' Vera insisted, 'but she didn't know when she was going to need her anti-emetic so, isn't it possible that she brought some of her drugs with her when she met her lovers?'

'You make it sound like she had many! She was a lively young woman, not a pervert!'

'Did you know she had an affair with your son, Clarence?'

Juniper jumped on his feet and slammed the table with the palm of his hand.

'It's defamation!'

'Not, it's not. Your son confirmed it,' Vera replied calmly, motioning Joe, who had gotten on his feet, to sit down.

The information stunned Juniper who slumped back on his chair.

'Could your son have had access to your wife's bedroom?'

Juniper stared at her with a blank look, as if he couldn't understand her question.

'Lord Juniper, did your son go into your wife's bedroom?' Vera repeated.

'Yes…yes, I suppose,' he stammered. 'But surely…'

'And finally, there's you,' Vera interrupted mercilessly. 'Even if you had your own bedroom, I don't believe you never went into your wife's.'

'I don't pretend that. I went to Victoria's bedroom on numerous occasions.'

Joe jotted down some notes and then contemplated them for a few seconds.

'That's a long list of persons, we need to trim it down,' he said.

'Let's do that!' Vera said loudly, making Juniper and his solicitor jump. 'Lord Juniper, do you know who had access to strychnine sulphate? It's a very uncommon product, hard to come by. Where did the killer find it?'

'How would I know?'

'Did you know that in some parts of the world it was used to treat low blood pressure? No? I'm not surprised, I didn't know that myself until Lady Morton-Meyers told me. She's well versed in chemistry and pharmacology. She even has her own lab with plenty of substances, some of them poisonous. I had a forensic team go to her place and have a look at her toys. They made an interesting finding: a bottle of strychnine sulphate. Half empty.'

'I dare hope you're not suspecting Edwina of murder!' Juniper exclaimed. 'I've known her all my life; she's honesty incarnate.'

He had regained his composure but Vera knew she had deeply shaken him and she intended to exploit her advantage.

'Did you know she's in love with you?'

'That's absurd!' Juniper spat out.

'Is it? You were romantically involved in the past.'

'That was fifty years ago. We both married someone else.'

'But you remained close.'

'It's not illegal to have a friend of the opposite sex.'

'Of course, no. I heard that she supported you after the death of your first wife.'

'Yes, she's been a great help to me in a difficult period.'

'She did more than support you morally: she was at your estate every day, she maintained the house and managed the maids. She behaved as if she were your wife.'

'Some things are better left to a woman. We, men, are not good at running a house, and Edwina knows that.'

Joe snorted and Juniper glared at him.

'I know the latest trend is to pretend there is no difference between the sexes but look at where all this has led the world: effeminate men and women without elegance. In my time women were classy and men solid. We knew who we were and what was expected of us and we excelled in our roles.'

'But were you happy?'

Now it was Vera's turn glare at Joe.

'We're not here to discuss one's opinion about the role of men and women in the society!'

'I agree with you, Inspector,' Juniper's solicitor said,' that's why I don't understand why you're paying so much attention to Lady Morton-Meyers' solicitude for my client.'

'Because it gives her a motive.'

'How dare you?!' Juniper cried, indignant.

The solicitor put his hand on his client's arm, advising him to calm down.

'Actually, she had the motive, the means and the opportunity.'

'Excuse-me,' Kerbb said to Lynley and Havers in the observation room. 'It's time I make my appearance.'

Tommy and Barbara exchanged a look of surprise as the inspector left the room. A few seconds later, someone knocked on the door of the interview room and, upon Vera's invitation to come in, stepped inside. It was Kerbb.

'Stanhope, a word, please.'

Joe announced for the record the arrival of DI Kerbb from New Scotland Yard. Juniper shot a look at the inspector but remained silent. Vera got up and joined Kerbb near the door where they started talking in a low but still audible voice.

'Here's the paper you wanted,' said Kerbb, handing Vera a document.

'Thank you, Sir. You could have sent someone else to give it to me.'

'I thought you'd like to know Lady Morton-Meyers is under arrest. My colleagues from the Met arrested her one hour ago, they're on their way to London at the moment. I'm going there to interview her and I'd like you to come with me.'

'Sure. I'll soon be done here.'

'Inspector Kerbb,' Juniper called. 'You cannot seriously think Lady Morton-Meyers is involved in my wife's murder.'

Kerbb gave him a stern look.

'As a Metropolitan Police officer I'm always serious about my job, milord.'

'But…'

But Kerbb was already out of the room.

'That's pure madness,' Juniper said.' I've known Edwina for over half a century, she's my closest friend…'

'With a bottle of strychnine sulphate in her cupboard,' Vera cut him.

'The cupboard isn't locked and Edwina likes to show her guests around her laboratory. Anyone could have taken the strychnine.'

'Did you see that bottle?'

'Of course. Edwina's very proud of her skills as a chemist and, I dare say, likes to boast about the dangerous substances in her laboratory.'

'Do you often go to her laboratory?'

'It happened.'

'Was the bottle of strychnine hidden from view?'

'No. It's in plain view on the top shelf of her poison cabinet, as she likes to call it.'

'When was the last time you went to her lab?'

'I don't remember exactly but it was two or three weeks ago.'

'Mr. Sivajothi told us he drove you there on 23 January.'

'That's possible. Why is it so important?'

'Did you notice the bottle of strychnine?'

'I didn't pay attention.'

'So, you cannot tell me if there was less powder in it than on your last visit.'

'I don't check the level of every bottle in the room!'

'Would you be surprised if I told you that Lady Morton-Meyers does?'

'Does what?'

'She knows exactly the level of each of her bottles.'

Vera drew out a sheet of paper from the folder in front of her.

'She keeps a very precise record of what she uses in her preparations so she can tell at every moment how much she has left of, say, bicarbonate or, more interesting for us, strychnine. See? That page is the latest entry in her record book when strychnine is used. The date is 23 January, so on the same day you visited her. She used…,' Vera put her spectacles on, '0.1 milligram so the net content of the bottle at the end of the day was 9.9 grams.'

'The only thing this paper tells you is how meticulous Edwina is.'

'Not exactly, it does tell us something else.'

She drew out another sheet of paper from the folder.

'This is the exact amount of strychnine sulphate in the bottle yesterday as weighted by my forensic technicians. It says 8.29 grams. There are 1.61 grams missing.'

'She probably made a mistake.'

'Aye. That's what I thought. So, I asked my team to weight all the other bottles and compare their results with Lady Morton-Meyers' records. They match. Each and every one of them. There's not a single mistake in her records except on the strychnine sulphate.'

'There must be a logical explanation that doesn't involve Edwina in a murder.'

'There is one,' Vera replied, planting her eyes in Juniper's.

She took a third sheet of paper from the folder and showed it to Juniper.

'This is an extract from SOCO's report. They found Lady Morton-Meyers' fingerprints everywhere in the lab, on the surfaces, on the equipment, on all the tubes and bottles, _except_ on the bottle of strychnine sulphate.'

'Someone cleaned it,' Juniper stated calmly.

'Exactly. Now, why would Lady Morton-Meyers clean it? It's her lab, her bottles. It's perfectly normal to find her fingerprints all over the place. Even if she had used her poison to kill your wife, she had no reason to wipe away her traces on the bottle. On the contrary, it would have been a sure means to arouse our suspicion.'

'I told you Edwina was incapable of murder. Someone else took the strychnine in her laboratory and then they cleaned the bottle.'

'That's what I think, Lord Juniper. Now what's interesting is this: the bottle of strychnine was a new one, Lady Morton-Meyers had received it on 22 January, the day before you came to visit her. See, here's the receipt for her order: a bottle of 10 grams of strychnine sulphate. Me personnally I wouldn't have kept that receipt because it's illegal to own strychnine in the UK but in this case it will prove useful.'

'I don't see what's so interesting; I presume she regularly needs to replenish her stock.'

'You don't understand. What it tells us is that the killer stole the strychnine between 22 January and last Friday. The bottle was new so the killer can't have stolen the strychnine from the lab before 22 January, and _that_ is a crucial information because the only person who came in her lab between January 22 and last Friday is you, Lord Juniper.'

'I'm certainly not the only one,' Juniper protested.

'Yes, you are. Lady Morton-Meyers is aware of the dangerousness of the substances she keeps in her lab so nobody can access it without her. The door to the lab is always locked and even her cleaning-lady has not access to the room. But Lady Morton-Meyers admitted she had left you alone in the lab during five minutes at your request to go and grab your coat you had left in the drawing room. You had the time to take the bottle, pour some of the strychnine in a container you had brought with you, possibly an envelope, clean the bottle and put it back into place.'

'You've a great imagination, Inspector. Did you ever consider writing mystery novels? Why would I kill my wife?'

'Because she cheated on you. Because, despite what you said it never was an agreement between you that she could take lovers. Because she took the chauffeur as her lover and, to add insult to injury, she got pregnant by another man.'

'You mean the child isn't mine?' Juniper asked, trying to sound surprised but failing.

'No, it's not and you know it.'

'How could I know?' Juniper protested.

'Because you've been sterile for years, following an illness you had in your early twenties.'

'You forget I have a son!'

'A story subjected to limitation by lack of time, to my great regret.'

'Inspector Stanhope, I protest against these accusations made without proof,' Juniper's solicitor said loudly.

'It's up to your client to decide whether to prove us wrong or not. Here's the paper DI Kerbb brought: it's an order from the court asking Lord Juniper to comply with a medical examination in order to ascertain his fertility.'

'This is unacceptable!' Juniper cried.

His solicitor snatched the sheet of paper out of Vera's hands and reviewed it.

'I'm afraid there's no way to escape it,' he said finally,' it was made according to the law.'

'Of course, it was, it was made by a judge,' Vera replied with a sarcastic smile.

She turned to Juniper and her smile was gone. With steely eyes, she looked at him and said:

'We're going to prove beyond reasonable doubt that you've been sterile for decades and that you can't have ignored it. We're going to prove Clarence isn't your biological son and that there was no possibility that Victoria's child could be yours. We're going to prove that you have abused Lady Morton-Meyers' friendship to steal some strychnine sulphate from her laboratory and that you used it to poison your wife Lady Victoria who was unfaithful and who carried another man's child.'

'Don't worry, milord,' the solicitor said,' I will easily demonstrate that anybody could have entered Lady Morton-Meyers' laboratory and take the strychnine. The case will collapse in no time.'

'It won't, Lord Juniper,' Vera countered, 'and you know it. You know Lady Morton-Meyers' laboratory is always locked and that she keeps its key on a necklace she wears constantly. You know only two persons could have accessed the bottle of strychnine: you and Lady Morton-Meyers herself.'

'Who's been arrested by the Metropolitan Police,' the solicitor said, 'so they think _she_ did it.'

'Shut up,' Juniper ordered his solicitor. 'She's right. The game's over and I've lost.'


	17. Chapter 16

Author's note: That's it! Finally, the last chapter of this story. Thank you very much to all of you who have stayed with me on this very long road. Your support has been invaluable.

* * *

Juniper's solicitor tried to make his client change his mind but the old lord remained firm.

'You hear but you don't listen,' Juniper curtly snubbed him. 'For the police it's either Lady Morton-Meyers or me who took the strychnine and killed Victoria, and Scotland Yard's just arrested Edwina. I can't let her pay for my sins. She's always been by my side, she's always supported me even after I broke her heart.'

He turned towards Vera.

'I don't expect you to believe me, Inspector, but I've a conscience. I care deeply about Edwina and I won't let you hurt her because of an old man's folly. Now, if you would be so kind as to let me have a cup of tea, I'll explain everything.'

Less than five minutes later, Juniper had his tea. He took a sip and grimaced.

'Some washing-up waters are better than this,' he said,' but I'm in no position to complain, am I?'

'At least you've chosen tea,' Vera said with a dry smile, 'coffee's even worse.'

'Is it? That was a good pick then. Are you recording?' he asked Joe.

'Yes, sir.'

'Good, because it will help you convince Scotland Yard that Edwina has done nothing wrong.'

He then looked at Vera squarely and started to explain:

'I once told you, Inspector, that if one of my old friends had told me he was going to marry a woman fifty years his junior I would have called him a fool. Now I know I would have been right. I've been a fool myself: I followed my heart, I ignored all the warnings from my friends and family, and see what happened. I married a woman who didn't love me, a woman who was only interested in my wealth and who went to all extremities to get it. A Jezebel who shared my bed for money, and slept with my driver to get her pleasure. I was blinded by my love for her; I didn't listen to the voice of reason, and I came to bitterly regret it. I could have endured it though had she been discreet but Riti, my butler, told me there were rumours circulating in my house that she was unfaithful; he had heard the scullery maids gossiping about her. It was unacceptable and I told her I wouldn't be ridiculed in front of my servants. She assured me the rumours were false. She even insinuated that Riti had lied because she had spurned his advances. I came to doubt my most faithful servant because of her words, but she became pregnant. She acted as if the child was mine but I knew it wasn't. You are right, Inspector, I'm sterile but I ask you not to tell Clarence; I love him as if he was my own son and I don't want to upset him further.'

'He's a Juniper, right?' Vera asked. 'And not only by name.'

'Suffice it to say he has every right to be my heir,' Juniper replied coldly and then he took another sip of his tea as if to demonstrate that the topic was closed.

'When Victoria told me she was expecting a child,' he went on, 'I pretended to be overjoyed but I asked Riti to open his eyes and tell me who her lover was. I never thought it would be Arun. How did she end so low? How could she cheat on me with a mere chauffeur?!'

Juniper became more and more agitated as his anger grew more blatant.

'I'm an earl, the tenth generation to bear that title, my ancestors fought alongside Harold at the battle of Hastings in 1066, I'm related to several reigning monarchs on the continent, and she chose a chauffeur, an Indian man I had welcomed under my roof! He had nothing, he was nothing when he came begging for work! How could Victoria do this to me? How could she think, for even a second, that I would accept the bastard of such a man in my family!?'

His rant left him breathless and cold beads of sweet appeared on his forehead. He wiped them off with the back of a trembling hand. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

'Inspector,' the solicitor said, 'my client's heart is weak and it's not good for him to get so upset. Maybe we could make a break so he can rest a bit.'

'Nonsense!' Juniper replied. 'Now I've begun I'm not going to stop before I'm finished.'

'But milord…'

'Oh, shut up, Caffrey. If you want to earn your wages, help me take one of my medicine for the heart; I can't find my pill box.'

He had a little smile for Vera:

'I always lose that stupid box. I lost it at the Orchard too. I once thought about how easy it would be for someone to replace one of my pills with poison to get rid of me. That's how I got the idea for Victoria.'

The solicitor, having searched the pockets of Juniper's coat, produced a little round box in blue enamel.

'Thank you, Caffrey, maybe you're not as useless as I thought but I'm already feeling better, I don't think I will need any pill.'

'Perhaps it would be more cautious to take them anyway, milord,' the solicitor insisted.

Juniper pocketed the pill box without opening it.

'Are you trying to drug me? I would not recommend you do that in front of two police officers,' Juniper joked. 'Allow me a few minutes to catch my breath, and it will pass.'

He drank the rest of his tea and everybody waited for him to feel better.

'You were talking about how you felt after you found out Arun was your wife's lover,' Vera said finally.

'Yes, I felt betrayed and, to tell it all, completely enraged.'

'So you decided to kill her.'

'I didn't have the choice.'

The voice was steady and calm; the crisis was over.

'You could have divorced,' Joe said.

'I thought about it, yes, but then I would have had to prove her adultery and my shame would have been displayed publicly, and I wouldn't want it to be public. I envisaged to try to reach a private settlement with her by paying her a small fortune so she would agree to the divorce but there was still the problem of the child. It was going to be mixed-race, it would be impossible to conceal my shame.'

'The child had to die.'

'What option was there left? I decided to poison her; it was the easiest way for me. I knew chemistry remained Edwina's favourite hobby. Pretending an interest in her research to get invited to her lab was easy. She showed me everything, insisted on explaining every potion and solution. We spent hours in her lab but this tedious task was necessary. In the end, she showed me the cupboard where she stored the poisons. I affected a polite curiosity, and asked one or two questions before changing the subject. Later, I asked her to bring me my jacket I had left in her drawing room and she left me alone in the lab to go and get it. It took me only a few seconds to take some strychnine sulfate. I put the bottle back in the cupboard and closed it. When Edwina came back everything in the room was back where it had been; she was none the wiser. The only thing I needed to do then was to go back home and put the strychnine in one of Victoria's capsules.'

'And wait till she swallows it.'

Juniper nodded.

'We need you to say that loud, for the record,' Joe said.

'Yes, I waited for her to swallow it,' Juniper said.

'Why did you do that? Why not giving her the poison more rapidly?' Vera asked.

'I hoped enough time would pass so that Edwina wouldn't make the link between my visit to her lab and Victoria's poisoning.'

'Did you know your wife had arranged to spend the night with Sivajothi on Holy Island?'

'No, I didn't. When I saw her flirting with Pennyworth during the dinner, I thought she had set her cap at him.'

'It didn't bother you?'

'Strangely enough no. I had made up my mind; nothing she did or said affected me anymore. But, then, Sivajothi disappeared in the middle of the night with my car. At first, I thought he had caught her red-handed with Pennyworth and I saw his flight as my chance. It designated him as the culprit, and in a way he is. Victoria died because of him.'

'No, she died because of you,' Vera replied coldly, 'you're the only one responsible for her death.'

'There's something I don't understand,' said Joe. 'You said you killed your wife because you wanted to protect your honour but what honour does a murderer have? You destroyed your honour yourself.'

Juniper straightened up in his chair and looked Joe up and down haughtily.

'The Juniper name dates back centuries and has always been transmitted from father to son. I wasn't going to let the son of the chauffeur bear it. I would have spared Victoria's life if I could have but the child had to die.'

Vera sighed, closed her folder, and got up. She walked towards the door before changing her mind. She turned around, opened her folder again, and pulled out a sheet of paper she put on the table in front of Juniper.

'What's that?' he asked.

'That's the result of the paternity test we ran on Victoria's baby. Sivajothi wasn't the father of her baby. Your son, Clarence, was. This child was a Juniper.'

She left the room as Juniper started to cry, his head in his hands.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Great job, Vera,' Tommy congratulated the inspector in the corridor outside the observation room.

'Thank you, Tommy. Thank you for your help too, Barbara.'

'You're welcome. Are you going to release Lady Morton-Meyers?'

Kerbb smiled.

'It was a trick devised by Vera to make Juniper confess, she's not under arrest.'

'Not yet,' Vera corrected.

'You don't plan to…' Kerbb asked, incredulous.

'And why not? She certainly was accessory in his crime and she retained important information from us. She faces a charge of complicity.'

'And let's not forget possession of strychnine which is illegal in the UK,' Tommy added.

'Do you think we can press a charge of manslaughter,' Vera asked him, 'given it was her strychnine that killed Victoria?'

'Gross negligence in the handling of a dangerous substance certainly, but manslaughter I doubt it. It's not as if she gave it to Juniper, he stole it from her.'

'Anyway, CPS will decide on its own which charges it wants to press, won't it?'

'It's sad,' said Barbara. 'Think of the number of lives destroyed because of Juniper's ego.'

'Speak of the devil…,' Tommy said.

Juniper was coming out of the interview room, between two policemen in uniform. Joe and the solicitor brought up the rear. Juniper was handcuffed. As he went past the little group, he stopped. Showing his handcuffs, he said to Tommy:

'See where my stubbornness led me, Asherton. I didn't listen to anybody when they warned me not to marry Victoria. I thought I knew better, I thought they didn't understand but they were right and I was wrong. My marriage was bound to fail and so is yours. Open your eyes and see that your union to that woman,' he indicated Barbara with a jerk of his head,' will not bring you happiness.'

'I beg to differ,' Tommy replied calmly. 'You got married twice but you still don't understand what love is. You saw your first wife as a mere womb, and Victoria as a trophy. Barbara's my equal. We yearn for the same things in life, we share the same beliefs. The same things make us laugh or cry; the same things appal us or appeal to us. We don't always agree but our differences strengthen us. Barbara and I…it won't be easy…but we'll be fine.'

'Take him away,' Vera said to the escort.

'Thank you,' Barbara said to Tommy once Juniper was out of sight.

Tommy smiled fondly at her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Barbara slipped her arm around Tommy's waist and leant against him. Vera gave Joe a nudge.

'Come on, Joey boy, we've a lot of paperwork to fill.'

'I'm coming with you,' Kerbb said. 'I know when I'm in the way,' he whispered to Vera as he joined her.

'Aye, these lovebirds don't need anyone.'

'What do we do now?' Barbara asked when they were alone.

'It's not late,' Tommy replied. 'If we check out now, we could still visit Pennyworth this afternoon and be back in London tonight. What do you think?'

'I think I agree,' she replied. 'I can't wait to leave this story behind me.'

'Come on, then. Let's not waste time.'

Less than an hour later, they had checked out of the hotel and were waiting for their train on the platform when suddenly Barbara sighed heavily.

'Barbara? Are you all right?' asked a concerned Tommy.

'Yes, don't worry. I was thinking about Vera. She broke our record: she solved that case in less than a week. Her guv's going to be happy: their clear-up rate is going to be stellar this month.'

'I told you she was brilliant, and let's not forget we were instrumental in her success.'

'Do you think she could talk to Ardery and detail her how brilliant we are, and how foolish it would be to break such a great team?'

Tommy had a sad smile.

'I very much doubt she would make her change her mind.'

'That's what I thought.'

Their train arrived and they went in search of their places. Once settled they resumed their conversation.

'That was a good idea she had,' Barbara said. 'Pretending the Met had arrested Edwina.'

'That was tremendously risky,' Tommy replied.

'What? You wouldn't have done the same?'

'Had Juniper stuck to his story, this little trick of hers would have been useless. She couldn't prove anything against him.'

'She counted on his friendship with Edwina and on his gentleman's manners.'

'His gentleman's manners!' Tommy exclaimed. He caught the disapproving look of an old woman seating on the other side of the aisle and went on in a lower tone. 'He had his brother raped his first wife and he killed the second. I don't know what manners that is but surely not a gentleman's.'

'He cared about Edwina, perhaps more than he had ever cared for his wives. Finally, she's his oldest love story.'

'Perhaps you're right. He couldn't stand the idea that she would go to jail for something he did.'

'So, in the end, Victoria died for nothing,' Barbara said sadly. 'Juniper killed her because he wanted to avoid a scandal but he's going to have it. This story is going to be on the front page of all the papers tomorrow.'

'That's why I'm surprised he confessed so rapidly. He went to all extremities to protect his name and suddenly he gives in without too much of a fight.'

'Perhaps he still has a card up his sleeve.'

'I don't know what it could…'

Tommy stopped suddenly and looked at Barbara. The look on her face told him she had the same idea.

'The pill box!' she said.

'Damn and blast!'

'I'm calling Joe Ashworth,' Barbara said.

'And me, Vera,' replied Tommy.

As they dialed their phones, the old lady harrumphed and pointed at the sign inviting the passengers not to use their phones. Tommy and Barbara flashed at her their warrant cards and she did not insist.

Joe's phone was on voicemail but Vera answered after only two tones.

'Vera! It's Tommy, 'Lynley said without leaving her the time to say anything. 'Take Juniper's pill box immediately! I've reason to believe…'

'Some pills contain strychnine,' she finished his sentence.

'You found them?' Tommy asked.

'Too late, I'm afraid,' she said as the gurney on which Juniper's dead body was laid, passed her in the corridor to the cells. 'He swallowed the lot, Tommy, complaining of his heart. I had that damn box right under my nose in the interview room!'

'It's not your fault, Vera.'

'Of course, it is! You simply don't let a poisoner carry a box full of pills, Tommy!'

'I saw that box too Vera, as did Kerbb, as did Ashworth and Havers. We were five, Vera, five seasoned police officers and we didn't react. We had no reason to believe he was suicidal.'

'Then, why are you calling me?'

The tone was sharp, almost aggressive and it took Tommy aback.

'That was then, and this is now, Vera, 'he said. 'We were talking with Barbara and we realized at the same time there was a risk, but we didn't see it this afternoon at the police station.'

'I know, Tommy, 'she answered wearily. 'Sorry. I'm angry because I didn't see it coming and now I look like a fool.'

'We all do, Vera.'

'Small consolation. Kerbb wants to take full responsibility for this. I'm not sure I want to let him do that.'

'Officially, he was in charge of the case.'

'He wasn't even in the interview room.'

'That doesn't change his responsibility, does it? We both know we're responsible for our subordinates' actions, whether we witness them or not.'

'Are you suggesting I keep my gob shut and let him take the blame?'

'I wouldn't have used these words, but you get the idea.'

'You're full of surprise, Tommy boy.'

'Vera, if he's offering himself in sacrifice, let him do it. That's my advice; take it or leave it.'

'Would you take the blame for someone else?'

'I already have and you probably have too for one of your subordinates, haven't you?'

'Yes, and I made sure they knew their pain afterwards!'

Tommy laughed.

'So let Kerbb take the blame and be prepared for his revenge.'

'He's a nice guy.'

'He is. And you're a good inspector, Vera, don't forget it.'

'No risk!' she replied cheerfully.

'We're too late?' asked Barbara when Tommy hung up.

'Yes, Juniper's dead.'

'That bastard! He's taken the easy way out. No trial, no risk of unsavoury stories leaking to the press. The family will say he was too heart-broken after Victoria's death to go on living.'

'If they admit he killed himself at all. Juniper junior will be happy, he's got all the money now,' Tommy said sarcastically.

'Yes, but at what cost. The woman he loved is dead, so is their baby, and his father is a murderer. Is it really worth it?'

'You're asking me? I would have given everything to save Helen, as I would give everything now to protect you.'

'I know, my love. I'm sorry, that was a stupid and cruel question.'

'Let's forget this sad story and focus on happier thoughts. We're all officially in the clear now; you'll be able to break the scoop to your friend Al.'

'He'll be happy to know he's not a suspect anymore.'

'I must confess I'm feeling relieved too.'

'Have you something on your conscience, m'lord?'

'Near you, very naughty thoughts, m'lady.'

She snuggled against him, earning herself a dark glance from the old lady. Barbara poked her tongue at her and closed her eyes. Soon she was asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'So, this is over,' Alistair Pennyworth said. 'I must say it is a relief.'

They were in a large room viewing the garden of a Victorian mansion. Alistair was seating on a green velvet sofa, his bad leg resting on a pouffe. Barbara, Tommy and Alistair's great-aunt, Hetty were around him.

'The police have been very efficient this time, 'Hetty commented.

The 'this time' wasn't lost on Tommy and Barbara but they conceded that murder investigations were seldom so quickly solved.

Aunt Hetty was a wiry old lady with green eyes and purplish wavy hair. Whether that color was intentional or the result of a dyeing gone bad Barbara couldn't tell. Anyway, her tea was good and the cake freshly baked and, right now, that was enough.

'Did the inspector tell you who the murderer was,' Alistair asked.

'I'm sorry, this is not for us to tell you,' Tommy answered, 'but there's a chance it will be in the papers tomorrow.'

'I don't read the press anymore, 'Hetty said, 'my eyes are too bad…and the news are usually worse.'

'I will read you all the articles about the case, Aunt Hetty,' Alistair replied.

'You'd be a dear.' Turning to Tommy, she added: 'My nephew told me you both are police officers. That's a very unusual occupation for someone of your rank, Lord Asherton.'

Tommy raised his hands in sign of helplessness.

'It was written this would be my fate. For all my sins, I suppose.'

'In my time, we would have sold our lands rather than worked and we would have rather starved than sold our lands.'

'This is not a question of money, it's simply that I wanted to do more with my life than managing the estate.'

'What happened to your business in South Africa?' Barbara asked Alistair. 'Do you run it from here?'

'No, I sold everything while I was still in hospital there, and by everything I mean an old warehouse with a leaky roof.'

'So you really have nothing left from your past,' Barbara said.

'Only memories, good or bad.'

'And some photographs,' added Hetty.

'Photographs?' asked a stunned Alistair.

'Yes, you sent them to me when you bought your warehouse. More exactly, you sent them to your grand-father, to prove him you weren't like your father, but they ended up in my possession. I must have them somewhere here.'

Hetty got up and went rummaging in the drawer of an old secretaire.

'Aunt Hetty, this really isn't necessary. This is history now and I'm sure it doesn't interest our guests.'

'Oh, I'd like to see them,' Barbara said.

'There's nothing to see, Barbara, it was just a decrepit building.'

Alistair was clearly growing nervous. It was so strange that Barbara's professionalism resurfaced.

'I'd really like to see them,' she insisted, in her best command voice.

Alistair looked at her and met her cold stare. He bit his lips shut; he reckoned he had stupidly raised her suspicion.

'Ah, here they are,' said Hetty.

'Let me have a look,' Alistair quickly said but Barbara had already taken the photos from the hands of the old lady.

They showed an anonymous metal-sheet warehouse with a small car park at the front, located in what looked like a small industrial estate.

Tommy had risen to have a look at the photographs too. Alistair had been too nervous about them for his liking but, clearly, there was nothing in them that justified his nervousness.

Perhaps he doesn't feel comfortable speaking about his life before the accident, or perhaps all those years in the police have finally caught up with me and I'm becoming paranoid, Barbara thought.

She shared a look with Tommy who simply raised his eyebrows but to her it was worth a thousand words: he didn't understand why Pennyworth had been so reluctant to let them see the photos; there was nothing of interest on them.

Barbara handed the photographs down to Alistair. He eagerly looked at them as if he was seeing them for the first time.

'I didn't remember I had sent some photos,' he sheepishly said, seeing the detectives' eyes on him.

'So much has happened to you since then,' Hetty said.

'Seems like a million years.'

'I think it is time we leave you,' Tommy said. 'The train to London is due to leave in forty-five minutes, we wouldn't want to miss it. Thank you for your kind reception.'

'It's been a pleasure,' Hetty replied. 'I wish you every happiness.'

'Thank you, Barbara, and take care,' Alistair said. 'Asherton, I must say I envy you, you've found yourself an extraordinary wife.'

'I know how lucky I am.'

Barbara kissed Pennyworth on both cheeks and they left.

'His attitude was strange,' Barbara said when they were in the taxi on the way back to the station.

'Yes, but there was absolutely nothing on these photographs.'

'I know. Maybe he was afraid they would bring back painful memories.'

'That's possible.'

'But you're not convinced.'

'The truth is I'd like you to think less about him and a bit more about me.'

'You're in all my thoughts, Tommy.'

'Good, because you're in mine.'

'You almost gave yourself away, my boy, you must learn to control your emotions better,' Hetty told Alistair when they were alone.

'What do you mean, Aunt Hetty?'

'It was obvious you didn't want me to show them the photos but you should trust me more. My sight isn't what it used to be but I can see clear enough to know what I can show them or not. And I wasn't going to show them that photograph', she said, pulling another photo from the drawer to give it to him.

It was a picture of a young man, looking vaguely like Alistair but with heavier features. On the back of the photo were a few hand-written words:

Me in front of my newly created business. My father's branch wasn't so rotten after all. Alistair.

'I don't understand,' said Alistair.

'You don't?' Hetty replied, sounding amused. 'I'm old but I'm not senile. I like you very much and I consider you as a member of my family now, but you are not Alistair. I doubt you are even a Pennyworth.'

Alistair sighed and bowed his head.

'I'm Tim Fallon, Alistair's friend and business partner.'

'Why did you usurp my nephew's identity?'

'It started by accident, no pun intended. Alistair had been wounded so badly in the crash that the paramedics who rescued us couldn't tell us apart so when I woke up in hospital I had been registered as Alistair Pennyworth. I didn't bother to put it right at first and then I became so entangled in my lies that it was easier to keep pretending. As it became clear I needed help and support I turned to you and I assumed you would rather help your nephew than a complete stranger. I'm truly sorry, I will leave your house today and I'd understand if you wanted to lodge a complaint.'

'Lodge a complaint? If I'd wanted to lodge a complaint I would have done it months ago. No, I like you, Tim, and like you I've no one left. I suggest that we keep supporting each other. Of course, you'll need to use your real name again, it will be too risky to keep pretending you're Alistair, not everybody is as understanding as I am. What do you say?'

Emotion was threatening to overwhelm Tim but he managed to say:

'Could I still call you Aunt Hetty?'

'You'd be well inspired to, my boy!'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tommy and Barbara were having a drink in the study of the townhouse in Belgravia when the phone rang. It was Tommy's mother. He put her on speaker.

'Tommy! I'm glad you're back in London. I phoned yesterday and Denton told me you were in the North. Put my mind at rest, you didn't go to Gretna Green to get married, did you?'

'No, we went to Kimmerston at DI Stanhope's invitation. She cracked the case of Victoria's murder.'

'Tommy! You've a wedding to prepare!'

'Don't worry, Mother, all's set. We only have to publish the announcement, send the invitations…'

'See the caterer…' Barbara went on, 'and the florist…'

'Buy the rings…'

'Choose my dress…'

'You are impossible!' Lady Asherton exclaimed. 'The wedding is in less than two weeks' time and nothing's ready!'

'These are only details, Mother, the most important is ready.'

'And what would that be?'

'Us!' they replied in unison.


End file.
